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MACBETH
WITH INTRODUCTION, NOTES,
AND QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW
Adapted from the Stanley Wood
“Oxford and Cambridge Edition’’
BY
WA. PURCELL DD:
RECTOR, CATHEDRAL COLLEGE, CHICAGO
AND
L. M. SOMERS, M.A.
PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH, CATHEDRAL COLLEGE
SCOTT, FORESMAN AND COMPANY
CHICAGO ATLANTA NEW YORK
COPYRIGHT 1916
By F. A. PurceLtt anp L. M. Somers
265.7
PREFACE
This series of Shakespeare’s plays, which includes The
Merchant of Venice, Julius Cesar, Macbeth, and Hamlet, is
based mainly on the Oxford and Cambridge editions of Spils-
bury, and Marshall and Wood. The present Editors have found
it expedient to eliminate certain passages in the text, as well as
to make some changes of matter and form in the editorial work,
deemed necessary for American schools. The Introduction con-
tains a Biographical Sketch of Shakespeare, a short account of
the History of the Drama, brief references to the Sources of the
Play, to the Characters, to Versification, to the Grammar of
‘Shakespeare, ete. The annotated words are printed in italic
type and the notes and word equivalents are given in the margin
in juxtaposition with the text for the convenience of the student.
The Glossary and many of the Notes have been rewritten, con-
densed, or amplified, as the case required, and the Classical and
Biblical Allusions have been included in the Notes and Glossary.
An abstract of the play has been supplied in Hamlet and in The .
Merchant of Venice. Some unimportant and apocryphal matter
has been omitted. The section on Shakespearean Grammar will
be found convenient for those who may have difficulty in classi-
fying many Shakespearean expressions, and the Questions for
Review will be of advantage to both teacher and pupil, by saving
time for the one, and by assigning specific work to the other.
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2023 with funding from
Kahle/Austin Foundation
https://archive.org/details/macbethwithintro0000shak
CONTENTS
PAGE
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INTRODUCTION
I. NARRATIVE OF SHAKESPEARE’S LIFE.......--++e0¢++-+00- tf
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V. REPRESENTATION OF THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE’S TIME, 19
VI. THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE DRAMA.......---+-+-++-+++05> 21
VII. Date oF CoMposiTION OF Macbeth......-..+++++ee esters 21
VIII. DISTINCTIVE FEATURES OF THE PLAY........--+++-+++++: 25
IX. Macbeth anv Hamlet—A CONTRAST......--++----+eeees 26
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XI. ON WITCHES AND WITCHORAFT.....-.---seeecer se eeeees aul
Sil, Vyasa 1K) AMPeDUWE HG oo cone nod anno co ocoUC oom odoe cma CGR 36
XIII. THE CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY......--+--e-ees sere reee 37
XIV. Tue True Account or THE MACBETH PERIOD OF ScoTrisH
TENEGUORAY corn ocan sabe OdoO UN ane GoDne Raum ED Ont OMG 54
NEVE ABSTRACT OR THE PUAY cm ce oer ne veers en es 55
XVI. Tre or ACTION OF THE PLAY.......---++ses+ ss eeerete 64
TORR 4 oh40pabRo dO Ooo OM ORUS DOS Gace 6 CUR OOS Oni ncicacE a URAC CSCI! ¥ 67
ee Tee Re Seg ey tare oreeciele on etesie cicitig.s a9 44 oie GIR eens oie 151
Paria STON NOUNS: Samet glee cess Garey sis: snr oe'e = 616% sre oenin iaisisias 162
WHRGIUTIGATHIORE jaccooos sous an 1eod Gop Ome scum eiummaa J CRIT TU 169
VARIANTS AND PROPOSED EIMENDATIONS.....++-++2+serrercsteseseces 174
Cautions AND HINTS FOR PARAPHRASING....--+++-+seererrrresseres 176
@MHSTIONS FOR REVIEW 0.0 ose +s ceive yore ence ncn ne sy se eececes 179
193
INTRODUCTION
I. NARRATIVE OF SHAKESPEARE’S LIFE
William Shakespeare, the greatest of English dramatic poets,
was born at Stratford-on-Avon, Warwickshire, England, on
April 23, 1564. His father, John Shakespeare, was of the yeoman
class. He had been a successful Warwickshire farmer, but he
adopted the trade of glover on his removal to Stratford in 1553.
There he soon became an important factor in municipal affairs,
and by ability and industry he rapidly rose from one position
of trust to another, until finally, in 1568, he became high
bailiff or mayor of the town. Shakespeare’s mother, Mary Arden,
was of an old Warwickshire family, and though she inherited
‘‘Jands and houses’’ she had no education.
John and Mary Shakespeare had eight children—four sons
and four daughters. William, the third child, was the eldest
son. Of his infancy and boyhood we know practically nothing.
It is probable, however, that at the age of seven he entered the
grammar school of Stratford, where he learned the rudiments
of Latin, English grammar, writing, arithmetic, and probably a
little Greek. His years at school were not many, for the
declining fortunes of his father compelled the boy to seek
employment when he was but thirteen years of age. After this
we hear little or nothing about him until the time of his marriage,
which probably took place in December, 1582. His wife, Ann
Hathaway, of whom.the boy-poet admiringly wrote
Ann Hathaway, she hath a way
To charm all hearts, Ann Hathaway,
does not seem to have long exerted that charm over her young
husband. At the time of their union he was little more than
uf
8 MACBETH
eighteen, while she had attained the more mature age of twenty-
six. This marriage, like most marriages of its kind, did not
prove a happy one.
If a small amount of reliable tradition can be winnowed from
the chaff of fiction with which the memory of Shakespeare’s
boyhood days at Stratford is surrounded, we may give credence
to the tales regarding his youthful follies and escapades. Of the
latter but one may be mentioned as having a direct bearing
upon his whole career. We are told that he took part in poach-
ing expeditions—a prohibited practice of the time—during one
of which he was caught stealing deer from the estate of the
eccentric Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote. The punishment for
this offense in those days was a fine and imprisonment. Sir
Thomas, being Justice of the Peace for that district, acted as
‘“‘judge, jury, and executioner’? in the case of the young
Shakespeare, who bitterly resented the punishment meted out
to him. In revenge, it is said, he wrote the scurrilous lampoon
beginning
A parliament member, a justice of peace,
At home a poor scarecrow, ete.
and posted it on the gate to Charlecote Manor.
This naturally aroused Sir Thomas to further reprisals, and
Shakespeare, to escape his vengeance, fled to London in 1585.
Verification of the poaching tradition may be found in 2 H enry
IV and in The Merry Wives of Windsor, where Lucy is earica-
tured as ‘‘Justice Shallow.’’ The three luces or pikes, in the
Lucy coat-of-arms, apparently suggested the ‘‘dozen white luces”’
in The Merry Wives of Windsor, and the many allusions te
poaching found in the context are none the less significant.
Before the poet’s departure for London, three children were
born to him—Susanna, the eldest, in May, 1583, and Hamnet and
Judith, twins, in February, 1585. On his flight, the immediate
support of these children is supposed to have devolved upon his
INTRODUCTION 9
mother-in-law, Mrs. Hathaway, of Shottery, then a widow in
affluent circumstances.
Tradition says that Shakespeare’s first employment in Lon-
don was holding horses at theater doors, and doing odd jobs
for theater-goers. Be this as it may, we soon find him employed
as prompter’s attendant, whose duty it was to notify the actors
when it was their turn to appear upon the stage, etc., and
later we find him filling minor parts in the plays. Gradually
he worked his way into more important positions. During
these first few years, he must have devoted considerable time
to reading, as a preparation for the wonderful works he was
afterwards to produce. He recast and revised many old plays,
began the production of original dramas, and acted some of
the leading roles in his own plays. In company with William
Kempe and Richard Burbage he made a successful appearance
- before Queen Elizabeth at Greenwich Palace in 1594. He acted
before her again at Whitehall in 1596, at Richmond and White-
hall in 1600, four times at Whitehall in 1601-02, and at Rich-
mond Palace in 1603, a month before her death. In 1603 he
fell under the favorable notice of King James I., who granted
him and his company a license to play in London and the sur-
rounding provinces. Later he appeared at court on several occa-
sions, and in 1604 he marched in the royal train when James
made his formal passage from the tower to Westminster. On
this occasion he and each of his companions received four and
one-half yards of scarlet silk, the usual dress allowance of court
actors in those days. It is quite evident that as an actor Shake-
speare was much more successful, financially, than as a play-
wright.
Whatever may have been Shakespeare’s youthful follies and
extravagances, in later life he became not only a great poet, but
he also developed the instincts of a shrewd business man.
Through his acting and the sale of his plays he accumulated a
respectable fortune, with part of which he purchased some
10 MACBETH
valuable property in London and elsewhere. After an absence
of eleven years he returned to Stratford in 1596, to bury his
only son, Hamnet.*
At Stratford Shakespeare invested considerable money in
houses and lands, and obtained from the government the dis-
tinction of a coat-of-arms, but he did not take up his residence
there until 1616. In this year he abandoned dramatic composi-
tion and began to enjoy, in his beautiful home at Stratford,
a well deserved and much needed rest. At the beginning of
this year, however, his health began to fail rapidly, and by
April his end was near. The actual cause of his death is
unknown, but it is generally admitted that overwork, and a not
too submissive obedience to the laws of health, hastened an
all too early dissolution. He died on the fifty-second anniver-
sary of his birth, April 23, 1616, and was buried inside the
chancel of Stratford church. On his tomb was inscribed the
following epitaph:
Good frend for Jesus’ sake forbeare
To digg the dust encloased heare,
Blese be ye man yt spares thes stones,
And curst be he yt moves my bones.
Il. SHAKESPEARE’S RELIGION
The question of Shakespeare’s religion has been long, and
sometimes furiously, debated. Many eminent writers incline to
the belief that he was a Roman Catholic, while many others,
equally eminent, maintain that he was a Protestant. At the risk
of being considered partisan the editors have decided to insert
the following rather lengthy extract from the pen of the dis-
tinguished litterateur and scientist, James J. Walsh, M.D., L.H.D.
* The direct line of Shakespeare’s family became extinct a little over fifty years
after the poet’s death. Judith married Thomas Quiney, of Stratford. The off-
spring of this marriage—three boys—died before reaching the age of manhood.
Susanna married Dr. Hall, and of their union was born Blizabeth, the only
granddaughter of the poet. Elizabeth married Thomas Nash, who died leaving no
ehildren. She then married John Barnard, who was afterwards knighted by
Charles II. Lady Barnard died childless in 1669, and thus the immediate family
of Shakespeare became extinct.
_INTRODUCTION ale
This extract they hope will be instructive to many Catholics,
and interesting, at least, to some who are not Catholics:
There is no doubt that Shakespeare’s mother lived and died a
Catholic. Her name was Mary Arden, and many of the Ardens
continued to be staunch Catholics even during the dangers of
Elizabeth’s reign. Indeed, one of the prominent members of
the family suffered death for the faith. Shakespeare’s mother,
moreover, made a will in which there is a mention of the Blessed
Virgin, a custom that had gone out of vogue in England at this
time except among Catholics. Shakespeare’s father, too, is on
the list of Stratford recusants who were summoned by the court
for not attending the Anglican service on Sundays. Shake-
speare’s immediate surroundings, likewise, were distinctly
Catholic, for the spirit of the old religion had not died as yet in
England. Indeed, it was very much alive in the central portion
of the country.
It is sometimes said, however, that there can be no question of
Shakespeare’s being a Catholic, for he was married, baptized, and
buried in the Anglican Church. But these facts, it must be
remembered, have in themselves no such significance as they
would possess at the present time. There was no way of having
the birth of a child properly registered then in England except
by having it baptized in the church by law established. Obse-
quies also had to be observed according to the Anglican rite,
for the only cemetery was close to the parish church. As for
Shakespeare’s marriage, in recent years the interesting sugges-
tion has been made that the real reason for the circumstances
attending the ceremony, which are supposed to carry a hint of
scandal with them, is because he was originally married by a
Catholic priest. As it was then very perilous for a priest to
show himself in public or to perform any official church service,
the marriage was, of course, performed secretly. Anne Hath-
away’s family, moreover, was Catholic by tradition, and about
the time of the marriage it is known that a priest, not entirely
without the knowledge of the local authorities, used to say Mass
privately, in the loft of one of the houses at Shottery.
But if Shakespeare was a Catholic should not his plays show
it? Unquestionably. And I maintain they do. Commentators
have pointed out, for instance, that Shakespeare in Romeo and
Juliet follows Arthur Brooke’s Tragical History of Romeo and
12 MACBETH
J
Juliet very closely. He has, however, changed the whole of the
play’s attitude toward the Catholic Church. Confession instead
of being a source of sin actually protects the young people from
their own passion in the most difficult circumstaces, and almost
succeeds in rescuing them from an unfortunate complication.
Instead of being ‘‘superstitious,’’ Friar Lawrence is pictured
as a dear old man interested in his plants and what they can
do for mankind, but interested still more in human souls, trying
to care for them and quite willing to do everything that he can,
even risking the displeasure of two noble houses rather than
have the young people commit sin. Friar Lawrence is repre-
sented in general as one to whom Romeo and Juliet would nat-
urally turn in their difficulty.
But King John, it is maintained, represents an altogether
different attitude toward the Church. In that play they assert
there are passages which make it very clear that Shakespeare
shares the general feeling of the men of England in his time.
King John protests, for example:
That no Italian priest
Shall tithe or toll in our dominions.
But as we, under heaven, are supreme head,
So under Him that great supremacy,
Where we do reign, we will alone uphold,
Without the assistance of a mortal hand:
So tell the Pope, all reverence set apart
To him and his usurp’d authority.
In this play, too, there are some bitter comments on monks
which would seem to prove that Shakespeare shared the opinions
of many of his contemporaries regarding monasticism. But let
us see: The Troublesome Reign of King John, from which
Shakespeare made his play, was probably written in the year of
the Spanish Armada when English national feeling ran very
high and there was bitter antagonism against Catholicism as the
religion of England’s greatest enemies. The dramatist—we are
not quite sure who it was—shrewdly took advantage of this
political situation in order to gain favor for his play. He tickled
the ears of the groundlings and attracted popular attention by
stimulating the prejudice of his audience. Shakespeare modified
all this to a very marked extent when he rewrote the play seven
years later, though it can be seen that he used many of the words
of the original version and was evidently following it very
INTRODUCTION 13
closely. But for some good reason he was manifestly minimizing
all the anti-Cathohe bias in it though letting stand whatever
sentiments were suitable for such characters as King John and
his entourage. In the matter of monks and nuns and their treat-
ment in the original version of King John, Shakespeare has been
even more drastic in the changes that he made.
But the best evidence of Shakespeare’s attitude toward the
Auglican Church is to be found in King Henry VIII., one of the
poet’s greatest plays and the last he wrote. Some of the Wolsey
speeches in it are the finest examples of English that were ever
penned. It is conceded by all the critics to be the ripest fruit of
his mature years. Therefore, if a play can be considered the
expression of Shakespeare’s settled opinion, that play is Henry
VIII. Now it so happens that the subject of Henry VIII. is
exactly the story of how the change of religion came about in
England. But it is sometimes urged that the fifth act, with its
culmination in the birth of Elizabeth, and the high prospects
for England and the rejoicings which this occasions, indicates
that the writer considered that the marriage of King Henry to
Anne Boleyn and the birth of a daughter by that union marked
a great epoch in English history and, above all, that the steps
that led to this happy termination, though dramatically blame-
worthy, must be condoned owing to their happy consequences.
It is well known, however, that the fifth act by every test known
to Shakespearean commentators was not written by Shakespeare
at all, but by Fletcher.
Our knowledge of Shakespeare’s relations with people in
London would indicate that a great many of his friends and
intimates were Catholics. It is possible that the Burbages, the
actors with whom he was so closely joined during most of his
dramatic career, belonged to the Warwickshire Catholic family
of that name. One of Shakespeare’s dearest friends, the Earl of
Southampton, who was his patron in early years, and his sup-
porter when he bought the Blackfriars theater, was closely allied
to a Catholic family and, as Simpson has pointed out, was
cradled in Catholic surroundings.
The conversion of Ben Jonson about the middle of the last
decade of the sixteenth century showed how easily men might
be Catholics in London at this time. Ben Jonson was in the
Marshalsea prison on a charge of murder in 1594 and found
14 MACBETH
himself surrounded by priests who were charged with treason
because of their refusal to take the oath of supremacy. By asso-
ciating with them Jonson became a Catholic and when released
from prison married a Catholic wife. His child was baptized
Mary, and Shakespeare was chosen as her sponsor. This choice
of a godfather seems to indicate that Shakespeare was a Catholie
at this time for, in his ardor as a new convert, Ben Jonson would
scarcely have selected an Anglican for that office.
One more proof of Shakespeare’s Catholicism in conclusion:
About the close of the seventeenth century Archdeacon Davies,
who was a local historian and antiquarian in the neighboring
county of Staffordshire, but who was well acquainted with Strat-
ford and its history, and who could easily have had very definite
sources of information denied to us, declared that Shakespeare
‘dyed a papist.’’ It:would have been perfectly possible, it must
be remembered, for Archdeacon Davies to have spoken with
people who knew Shakespeare during the years that the poet
spent in Stratford at the end of his life. After this review of
the evidence I can not but conclude that Shakespeare not only
““dyed a papist,’’ but also lived as one.
Leaving those, to whom these lines may be of interest, to
make their own deductions, the editors accept the conclusions of
the distinguished Jesuit, Herbert Thurston, who, in discussing
this point in the Catholic Encyclopedia, maintains that there
is no real ground for the belief that Shakespeare either lived
or died a Catholic. Thurston concludes his able study of this
question by stating, ‘‘The point must remain forever uncertain.”’
Il. SHAKESPEARE’S LEARNING
Of Shakespeare’s learning it may be said that though classical
quotations and allusions are numerous throughout his works,
Ben Jonson credits him with ‘‘small Latin and less Greek.’’
‘“‘His quotations from Latin literature are such as a schoolboy
might make from Virgil, Ovid, and the other authors he had
studied; and his allusions to classical history and mythology
are mostly from the same sources, or from the familiar stock in
English books of the period.’? (Rolfe.) In comparing Shake-
INTRODUCTION 15
speare with the dramatists of his time, Jasper Mayne, writing in
1637, mentions him as one of those who did his work ‘‘without
Latin helps’’; and Mayne’s contemporary, Ramsey, in compli-
menting Ben Jonson on his knowledge of the classical languages,
says that he (Jonson)
could command
That which your Shakespeare could scarce understand.
Yet we are told that Shakespeare’s work is ‘‘Art without art,
unparalleled as yet,’’ and though he borrowed nothing from
Latin or Greek, his Julius Cesar ravished the audience,
When some new day they would not brook a line
Of tedious (though well labour’d) Catiline,
and Jonson’s ‘‘Sejanus too was irksome.’’ In Fuller’s Worthies
we find the following reference to Shakespeare: ‘*‘He was an
eminent instance of the truth of that rule, Poeta non fit, sed
nascitur—one is not made but born a poet. Indeed his learning
was very little . . . nature itself was all the art which was
used on him.’’ And he speaks of the wit combats between him
and Ben Johnson, ‘‘which two I behold like a Spanish great gal-
leon and an English man-of-war. Master Jonson (like the
former) was built far higher in learning; solid but slow in his
performances: Shakespeare, like the English man-of-war, lesser
in bulk and lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, tack
about, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his
wit and invention.’’ Dryden in his Essay on Dramatic Poesy
(1668), says: ‘‘Those who accuse him to have wanted learning,
give him the greater commendation; he needed not the spectacles
of books to read nature ; he looked inwards and found her there :’”
and in the same author’s prologue to Julius Casar we find,
So in this Casar which today we see,
Tully ne’er spoke as he makes Antony.
Those then that tax his learning are to blame;
He knew the thing, but did not know the name.
Great Jonson did that ignorance adore,
And tho’ he envied much, admired him more.
16 MACBETH
EE eee
The material for his historical plays he obtained from
Holinshed and Plutarch, and in the use of these rather unre-
lable authorities he makes many unscholarly mistakes.
During his mature years and in the time of his prosperity,
he brought out his best works. Some writers credit him with the
authorship of forty-three plays of a dramatic character. Seven
of these are considered spurious. Thirty-three known to be his
are divided as follows:
The Taming of the Shrew
The Merchant of Venice ; = &
All’s Well that Ends Well Italian Origin
Much Ado About Nothing
Measure for Measure
The Comedy of Errors ;
Twelfth Night Classical (from Plautus)
Comedies
j Det te
ee Bream UMedineral Sources
Cymbeline Legendary
Two Gentlemen of Verona Spanish Origin
The Merry Wives of Windsor English Origin
Love’s Labor’s Lost French Origin |
The Winter’s Tale oe
The Tempest Sorigin Unknown
Timon of Athens
Pericles Classical Origin
Julius Cesar (Plutarch’s Lives, by
Antony and Cleopatra North)
Coriolanus
Hamlet ; ee Tragedies
Troilus and Cressida Medieval Origin
Romeo and Juliet c ay
Othello Italian Origin
King Lear ) Origin—Legendary
Macbeth iD History of Britain
King John )
King Richard the Second
land 2 King Henry the Fourth
King Henry the Fifth Origin—Holinshed & Hal] Chronicle
1, 2,3 King Henry the Sixth Plays
Richard the Third
Henry the Eighth
INTRODUCTION 17
Besides these he wrote one hundred and fifty-four Sonnets
and some Narrative Poems.
IV. THE DRAMA
A lengthy discussion of the drama cannot be conveniently
introduced into a text of this kind; therefore, the chief heads only
will be touched upon. Drama is a Greek term signifying action,
and in its application it comprehends all forms of literature
proper for presentation on the stage. In the drama, actors
usually tell a story by means of word and action. This story
may be tragic or comic ;—tragic when the serious phases of life
are discussed, comic when life’s follies and foibles are depicted.
Other phases of the drama which do not, strictly speaking, come
under the heading tragedy or comedy, are the Greek Satyrs, the
Morality Plays of the Middle Ages, the Pastoral Plays of the
Renaissance, and the Melodramas still in vogue.
Although the drama was well established in the remote ages
in India and China, the earliest examples of pure dramatic art
are to be found in Greece. From the sacred songs and choruses
in honor of the god Dionysus, the Greeks in time evolved a form
of drama, the chief features of which, even in its highest stages
of development, were lyric or choral. To Aeschylus, Sophocles,
Euripides, and Aristophanes, in the fifth century, and to
Menander at a later period, the Greek drama owes its greatness
and its influence in ancient and in modern dramatic literature.
The Roman drama, as it has come down to us in the works
of Terence, Plautus, and Seneca, is but a slightly modified form
of Menander, and shows some traces of the influence of Aeschylus
and other dramatists of his time. This modification, in the
comedies of Plautus at least, was not for the betterment of the
drama; on the contrary, it was a concession to the depraved
taste of his Roman audience. Unfortunately, Plautus’ travesties
of the old Greek masters later served as models for the dramatic
writers of the Renaissance, and his influence is felt even to the
6
present day. Modern tragedy, generally speaking, is a direct
offspring of the works of Seneca. Toward the close of the Roman
Empire, the theaters became the scenes of the most degraded
exhibitions of indecency and debauchery. Christianity attacked
these indecencies and drove the mimes from their haunts of
infamy into the streets and byways of Rome and its environs.
These mimes practiced their mimicry in the villages and cross-
roads, and became the models for the strolling players of the
middle ages.
Christianity, however, recognized the necessity of the drama
as a humanizing influence, and though years elapsed before its
restoration as drama proper, the leaders of the new religion set
about the substitution of wholesome Christian plays for the
Roman indecencies to which they had recently given the death
blow. The Scriptures and the liturgy of the church were rich
stores from which were drawn the materials for the Mystery,
the Morality, and the Miracle Plays. After a time these exhibi-
tions passed from the control of churchmen into the hands of
the Guilds. Under the management of the Guilds these plays
soon lost their religious aspect, and before the end of the fifteenth
century they had been completely divorced from church in-
fluence, and were ready to be destroyed or absorbed by the spirit
of the New Learning. This destruction or absorption, however,
was not accomplished without a struggle. The leaders of the
Renaissance advocated the complete dominance of classic in-
fluence in the reconstruction of the drama, while the Medizval-
ists strenuously advocated the perpetuation of the Mystery,
Morality, and Miracle Plays. Of this travail, however, was born
the modern drama.
Italy, France, Germany, England, and Scandinavia contrib-
uted largely to the formation of the modern drama, but prac-
tically all the dramatic writers of these countries have been in-
fluenced by the Greek and Roman masters. These masters have
been slavishly imitated by all but a few of their pupils. This
INTRODUCTION 19
eek Re ea ete co)
is especially true in the matter of composition and technique.
The observance of the unities, the harmony of rhyme, the smooth-
ness of rhythm, the maintenance of the chorus, the number and’
character of the dramatis persone, etc., were classic restrictions,
which, to a certain extent, have stultified the higher and broader:
aspirations of many a dramatic genius. Among those who
rebelled against these restrictions, in so far as they affected the
English drama, were some of the immediate predecessors of
Shakespeare—Marlowe, Kyd, Green, and Lyly. These men
opened the way for the sweeping innovations of Shakespeare,
and for the half-hearted adoption of these innovations by Ben
Jonson, who often apologized to his contemporaries for his
temerity in disregarding the unities and other classic formule.
Since Shakespeare’s time, or what is known as the period of
the Elizabethan drama, no English dramatic literature, worthy
of comparison with the work of that great master, has appeared.
‘During the reign of James I., Massinger, Middleton, Shirley, and
others wrote, but their art was only a weak imitation of their
masters, Marlowe and Shakespeare. Addison, Steele, Goldsmith,
Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron, Shelley, Tennyson, and others,
' have sought recognition on the dramatic stage, but with little
or no success. So far America has produced nothing of a
dramatic nature worthy of recognition, and judging from the
dominance of the light, frivolous, vaudeville performances on the
English and American stages, the drama as a popular entertain-
ment has been laid to rest, and the day of its resurrection seems
far distant.
V. THE REPRESENTATION OF THE DRAMA IN SHAKESPEARE’S TIME.
The staging of the drama in Shakespeare’s time was a very
different matter from what it is today. The primitive theaters,
or theatrical inns, were rude wooden structures, usually circular
in form, with a covered stage and covered galleries, and an open
20 MACBETH
pit exposed to the vicissitudes of wind and weather. These crude
structures were usually located outside the city walls, and be-
yond the jurisdiction of the city authorities, for, at that time,
all theatrical representations were held in disfavor by the Puri-
tanical leaders in church and state. The gallants of the town
occupied the stage with the players, and delighted in chaffing and
interrupting the actors with irrelevant puns and clownish
mimicry. The middle classes occupied the galleries and often
enjoyed the spontaneous sallies of wit and repartee between the
gallants and the players more than they enjoyed the play itself.
The ‘‘tag-rag,’’ or what then might have been regarded as we
regard our present-day ‘‘gallery gods,’’ occupied the pit, and
when not dodging the not infrequent missiles hurled from the
stage, or the snow or rain from the open firmament, they could
appreciate a good comedy or a real drama as well as could the
more favored occupants of the reserved places. The stage had
no scenery, that being first introduced by Davenant after the
Restoration. There were no rise and fall of a curtain to mark
the opening and close of a scene. The entrance to the stage was
strewn with rushes instead of being carpeted; the walls were
hung with arras; a large board with names painted on it indi-
cated where the scenes of the play being produced were laid.
For tragedies the walls were hung with black tapestry; Shake-
speare speaks of ‘‘Black stage for tragedies and murders fell’’
(‘‘Luerece’’) ; and History, addressing Comedy, says:
Look, Comedy, I mark’d it not till now,
The stage is hung with black, and I perceive
The auditors prepar’d for tragedie.
A Warning for Fair Women.
Before the Restoration women’s parts were acted by boys,
and even among the audience no woman might appear unless
masked. The union of the serious and the comic in the same
play was common, and clowns were apt to thrust themselves
INTRODUCTION 21
. upon the stage on all occasions, much to the annoyance of
Shakespeare himself. (See Hamlet, III., ii., 43.) The costume
and many other stage accessories were almost entirely lacking,
and the few that were used were usually inappropriate. Thus
the gorgeous stage setting of the present day, which adds so
much to the successful presentation of the drama, had to be sup-
pled by the keen imagination of the audience; and here we
get a fair appreciation of the high degree of intelligence de-
manded from theater-goers of the Elizabethan period.
VI. THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE DRAMA
‘*A drama undertakes to tell a story by presenting a few
episodes or situations from which the entire course of the action
ean be inferred. Inasmuch as these scenes are to be presented in
rapid succession to an audience, they must be not only clear and
easy to follow, but, to be interesting, they must also afford op-
portunity for striking, significant action on the part of the char-
acters. Further, inasmuch as in a drama the author has no op-
portunity to tell his audience directly what he thinks of his
characters, these latter must reveal their natures and purposes
by their attitude toward one another, as manifested in speech
or action. It is most important that every action in a drama be
explained, prepared for, given a motive, by something which has
already taken place, or some trait of character already indi-
cated.’’—Robert Morss Lovett.
VII. DATE OF COMPOSITION OF MACBETH
Plausible arguments point to 1606 as the year in which
Macbeth was completed, but we know nothing more definite than
that it was composed between 1604 and 1610. James I ascended
the throne in 1603. In the following year he was proclaimed
King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland. The lines spoken
by Macbeth during the ‘‘Show of Eight Kings’’ (LY. 1.121)
ee)
.
9 MACBETH
|
contain an undoubted allusion to King James’ coronation and
to the union of three kingdoms under one sovereign. This
internal allusion, then, marks the year 1604 as being a limit
before which the play could not have been written.
External evidence affords a proof that the play was not
written later than the year 1610. Dr. Simon Forman,* an
astrologer and quack, gives in his diary—the MS. of which is
still in existence—an account of the play Macbeth as he saw
it represented at the Globe Theater on the 20th of April, 1610.
The following arguments, of no great validity individually,
but of importance when regarded collectively, have been put
forward to prove the play was written in 1606.
1. The Porter’s speech in II. ii1., ‘‘Faith, here’s an equivo-
eator, that could swear in both the scales against either scale,’’
is thought to have reference to the trial of the Jesuit Garnett,
which took place in 1606. That this may have been the case is
not improbable, for the Jesuits were frequently made the marks
for the satire of Elizabethan preachers, and we are told, falsely,
however, in the account of Garnett’s trial, published in 1606,
that they both allowed and taught their followers ‘‘to equivocate
upon oath.”’
2. The allusion in the same speech to the ‘‘farmer that
hanged himself on the expectation of plenty,’’? is commonly
supposed to have been suggested by the abundant harvest of
the year 1606. That year wheat was lower in Windsor market
than it was for thirteen years afterwards, also lower than in the
previous year.
3. The same speech contains a reference to ‘‘stealing out of
a French hose.’? From Antony Nixon’s ‘‘Black Year,’’ 1606,
we learn that tailors ‘‘took more than enough for fashion’s
sake.”’
* Forman, Dr. Simon, born in Quidhampton, England, 1552; died 1611.
+ Garnett, Henry, born in England 1555; executed at London 1606. An Eng-
lish Jesuit falsely accused of implication in the Gunpowder plot.
INTRODUCTION 93
4. In 1605 three students of St. John’s College, Cam-
bridge, addressed King James in Latin verses founded on the
witches’ predictions to Macbeth. ‘‘It is not likely,’’ says Fleay,*
“‘that they would choose this subject after Shakespeare had
treated it.’’
5. Two passages from Plutarch’st ‘‘Life of Antony’’ are
alluded to in this play, ‘‘The insane root that takes the reason
prisoner,’’ and ‘‘My Genius is rebuked, as it is said Mark
Antony’s was, by Cesar.’’ From this circumstance Mr. Fleay*
concludes that Shakespeare ‘‘was then probably reading for
Antony and Cleopatra, which was produced before May, 1608.’’
6. Middleton’st The Puritan, 1607, contains the passage,
‘‘we’ll have a ghost in a white sheet sit at the upper end of the
table.’’ These words are commonly supposed to refer to
Banquo’s ghost in Macbeth.
Macbeth was not published during its author’s lifetime,
but first appeared in print in the ‘‘First Folo’’§ of 1623, where
it comes between Julius Cawsar and Hamlet. The text in this
edition is extremely defective, and is generally supposed to
have been printed from an imperfect transcript of the author’s
MS. The play, as we have it, is the shortest of Shakespeare’s
tragedies, and is probably nothing more than an actor’s copy.
Shakespeare’s later plays are distinguished from his earlier
works by a greater richness of thought, a wider knowledge of
human life, and by a nicer choice of more serious subjects for
their motives. With respect to the style of any play, it is con-
ceded that the more irregular the meter, the greater the quantity
*Pleay, Rey. Frederick Gard, an English author; began writing in 1857.
+ Plutarch, born at Chaeronea, Greece, A. D. 46. Greek historian.
£ Middleton, Thomas, born London, 1570; died 1627. An English dramatist.
§ The terms “folio and quarto” in reality denote nothing more than the par-
ticular size and shape of a book, a folio being a large book, the pages of which
are formed by a sheet of paper once doubled; a quarto, a smaller book, of
which the pages are formed by a sheet of paper folded in four parts. To the
student of Shakespeare, however, the terms have a more special significance. All
the plays, fifteen in number, which were printed during the poet's lifetime, were
printed in quarto. ‘These plays were entered in the registers of the Stationers
Company, and are usually of ascertained date. The remaining twenty-one plays
of the poet remained unprinted until they appeared in folio in 1623.
24 MACBETH
of prose, the more frequent the double (or feminine) endings,
and the fewer the rhyming lines, the later is the period of
composition.
A consideration of the metrical evidence (see page 169) leads
to the conclusion that Macbeth was composed about the year
1606. This play bears, in a marked degree, the characteristics
of Shakespeare’s third period of composition, which extends
from about 1602 to 1608, and includes Macbeth, Hamlet, Othello,
King Lear, Antony and Cleopatra, and Cortolanus. The meter
of this period is characterized by great freedom:
1. Trisyllabic feet abound.
2. Short lines are numerous.
3. Double endings are greatly multiplied.
4. The number of Alexandrines gradually increases.
5. Prose and verse are intermingled, frequently in the same
scene.
6. The number of rhyming lines gradually falls off, or
rhyme is confined to elevated passages and concluding verses.
7. Unnatural conceits are avoided, e. g., profoundness is not
lavished on shallow ideas, and the language employed is more
generally characteristic of the speaker.
Gervinus,* commenting on Shakespeare’s third period of
dramatic poetry, in which tragedy greatly predominates, speaks
as follows:
“The unnatural dissolving of natural bonds, oppression,
falsehood, treachery, and ingratitude towards benefactors,
friends, and relatives, towards those to whom the most sacred
duties should be dedicated, this is the new tragical conception,
which now most powerfully and profoundly occupies the poet
in the most various works of this epoch of his life . . . Mac-
beth’s treason towards his benefactor, Duncan, displays this
ingratitude.’’
* Gervinus, Georg Gottfried, born at Darmstadt, Germany, 1805; di
Heidelberg, 1871. A celebrated German historian and critic. ue > as
INTRODUCTION 25
VII. DISTINCTIVE FEATURES OF THE PLAY
Drake* speaks of Macbeth as ‘‘the greatest effort of our
author’s genius; the most sublime and impressive drama which
the world has ever beheld,’’ and it has always proved to be one
of the most popular of Shakespeare’s plays. The reason for this
popularity is not hard to find. In the first place, it is the most
rapid and the simplest of the poet’s dramas, the characterization
being most apparent and easily understood. Again it deals with
the supernatural, which always arouses interest, and ‘“‘the super-
natural influence determines the course of the action with a
precipitation which in itself appears almost supernatural.”’
Finally, to the never-ceasing interest of incident and charac-
terization, there is added the charm of pictorial description and
poetic coloring.
‘‘There can hardly be a single point of incident or of char-
-acter on which the youngest reader will not find himself at one
with the oldest, the dullest with the brightest, among the schol-
ars of Shakespeare.’’—Swinburne.t
‘“‘The action of this drama occupies a considerable period of
time, but in the rapidity of its movement and the intensity of its
interest, the matter of duration may not be considered.—The
Fatest are weaving their dark web on the bosom of time, and the
storm and whirlwind of events are impelling the hero to his first
desperate act. These same agencies afterward impel him to
commit other atrocious crimes, to secure the fruits of the assassi-
nation, and they drive him at last to his own destruction, amid
the blood and carnage of a hand-to-hand conflict. The whole
tragical exhibition resembles the course of a terrifying comet.’’§
“‘Macbeth stands forth uniquely pre-eminent in the splendor
* Drake, Nathan, born at York, England, 1766; died, 1836. An Wnglish
ici and author.
Bee caiaburne, Algernon Charles, born at London, 1837; died, 1909. An
English poet and author.
+The Roman Parcae, corresponding to the Greek Moerae. 2 ,
§ Schlegel, August Wilhelm von, born at Hanover, Germany, 1767; died,
1845. A celebrated German poet and critic.
26 MACBETH
of poetic and picturesque diction, and in the living representa-
tion of persons, times, and places. . . . Locally, we are trans-
ported into the Highlands of Scotland, where everything appears
tinged with superstition ... ; where men are credulous in
belief, and excitable in fancy; where they speak with strong
expression, with highly poetical language, and with unusual
imagery.’’—Gervinus.*
‘All the preparatory incidents are poetical. The moon is
down; Banquo and Fleance walk by torchlight; the servants are
moving to rest; Macbeth is alone. He sees ‘the air-drawn dag-
ger’ which leads him to Duncan; he is still under the influ-
ence of some power stronger than his will; he is beset with
false creations; his imagination is excited; he moves to blood-
shed amidst a crowd of poetical images, with which his mind
dallies, as it were, in its agony.’’—Knight.t
‘There is a line in the play of Macbeth, uttered as the eve-
ning shadows begin to gather on the day of Banquo’s murder,
which we may repeat to ourselves as a motto of the entire trag-
edy, ‘Good things of day begin to droop and drowse.’ It is the
tragedy of the twilight and the setting in of thick darkness upon
a human soul. We assist at the spectacle of a terrible sunset in
folded clouds of blood.’’—Dowden.t
IX. MACBETH AND HAMLET—A CONTRAST
‘Of all Shakespeare’s plays, Macbeth is the most rapid,
Hamlet the slowest, in movement,’’ says Coleridge. The trag-
edies resemble each other especially in that the supernatural
plays an important part in each. Macbeth and Hamlet commit
murders, and the two plays present certain points of similarity
in the final scene. But the contrast between the plays as well as
* See footnote, p. 24.
+ Knight, Charles, born at Windsor, England, 1791; died, 1873. An Eng-
lish publisher and author.
Dowden, Edward, born at Cork, Ireland, 1843; still living, 1915. An
eminent Irish critic and poet.
§ Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, born at Ottery St. Mary, England, 1772; died
at London, 1834. An English poet, philosopher, and literary critic.
INTRODUCTION a7
between the characters of the heroes is much greater than the
resemblance. In Macbeth, conscience is awakened after the deed ;
Hamlet has scruples which restrain him too long from the deed.
In Macbeth, the murder of Duncan was an act of the basest in-
gratitude. For Hamlet to have murdered Claudius would, in the
circumstances in which he was placed, have been regarded as
an act of righteous punishment. In Hamlet adverse fate pur-
sues the hero for tardiness of action; in Macbeth, fate, through
the instrumentality of the witches, drives the hero onward from
crime to crime with breathless rapidity. Hamlet is brave and
eareless of death, vacillating from sensibility, procrastinating
through too much thinking. He is ‘‘a man of a civilized period
standing in the center of an heroic age of rough manners and
physical daring.’? Macbeth is courageous when in action, a
coward when he thinks. His bravery is that of the ferocious
- animal, and his almost savage nature is, in the play, contrasted
with the civilization of the age in which he lives. Christianity
was well established in England, though it had gained but little
hold upon the generality of Scotchmen in Macbeth’s time.
Macbeth’s reason for not committing suicide is ‘‘Whiles I see
lives, the gashes do better upon them;’’ Hamlet is restrained
by the thought: ‘‘O that the Everlasting had not fixed His
canon ’gainst self-slaughter.’’
‘‘In Hamlet and Macbeth the scene opens with superstition ;
but in each it is not merely different, but opposite. In the first
it is connected with the best and holiest feelings; in the second
with the shadowy, turbulent, and unsanctified cravings of the
individual will. Nor is the purpose the same; in the one the
object is to excite, whilst in the other it is to mark a mind
already excited... . ”’
‘(The style and rhythm of the Captain’s [Sergeant’s] speeches
in the second scene should be illustrated by reference to the inter-
lude in Hamlet, in which the epic is substituted for the tragic, in
order to make the latter be felt as the real life diction. In
98 MACBETH
Macbeth the poet’s object was to raise the mind at once to the
high tragic tone, that the audience might be ready for the
precipitate consummation of guilt in the early part of the play. 2
—Coleridge.*
X. SOURCES OF THE PLAY
Ralph Holinshed’st ‘‘Chronicle of Scotland,’’ written in
1577, furnished Shakespeare with the striking incidents which
form the subject of the play. Holinshed himself had borrowed
from Bellenden’st Scotch translation of the Latin Chronicle of
Hector Boethius.§
In the supernatural portions of the play—which are elabo-
rated from the scanty allusion to witches and wizards in the
chronicle—the poet has embodied most of the traditional beliefs
of his own time. Doubtless he obtained hints also from James I’s
‘‘Deemonologie,’’ published in 1597, and reprinted in 1603, and
from Reginald Scot’s|| ‘‘Discoverie of Witcheraft,’’ 1584.
In his construction of the play, Shakespeare has made use
of two separate portions of Holinshed’s Chronicle, and has made
such changes affecting persons, time, and place, that the trag-
edy can not be properly regarded as an historical play, even if
it were certain that the events narrated by Holinshed himself
were historically accurate. The greater part of the play is
founded upon the ‘‘ Historie of Macbeth,’’ while for the details
of the murder of King Duncan, Shakespeare borrowed from an
earlier page of the Chronicle—from the account of the murder
of King Duff by Donwald, Captain of the Castle of Forres.
In the Chronicle of Holinshed, Shakespeare found an excel-
lent subject for a drama of a tragical nature, and we need not
be surprised therefore to find that in many of the principal inci-
* See footnote, p. 26
+ Holinshed, Raphael, born at Cheshire, England; died about 1580. An Eng-
lish chronicler,
t Bellenden, born at Berwick, Scotland, about 1500; died at Rome 1550. A
Scotch poet and prose writer.
§ Boethius, Hector, born about 475 A. D.; died about 542 A. D. A Roman
philosopher.
|| Scot, Reginald ; died 1599. An English author.
INTRODUCTION 99
dents the dramatist has closely followed the historian. <A few of
the more important resemblances are mentioned here.
1. That Macbeth was the support of his cousin, the weak
King Duncan, against internal rebels and external enemies.
2. The prophecies of the three witches to Macbeth and
Banquo.
3. That Lady Macbeth was ‘‘verie ambitious,’’ and incited
her husband to the murder, the suspicion of which fell on the
sons who fled.
4. That fearful tempests and unnatural portents marked the
period of the murder.
5. The growth of suspicion against Macbeth and the dete-
rioration of his character after the first murder.
6. That envy and mistrust caused Macbeth to murder
Banquo, and that Fleance escaped.
7. Macbeth’s mistrust of Macduff, Macduff’s flight, and the
murder of his family.
8. The further deceptive prediction of the witches.
9. The whole of the conversation between Macduff and Mal-
coln.
10. The deliverance of Scotland by Malcolm, with assistance
from England.
To the student of the drama it may perhaps be of more
importance to observe carefully the chief points wherein Shake-
speare departs from, or considerably enlarges upon, his author-
ity, than to study minutely the points of resemblance. Such
changes fall naturally under two heads, Changes of Incident,
and Character Digressions.
?
Changes of Incident
1. In Holinshed* the rebellion of Macdonwald, the invasion
of Sweno, King of Norway, and a subsequent attack upon Scot-
land by the forces of Canute, are three separate and distinct
* See footnote, p. 28.
30 MACBETH
events which took place at different times. Shakespeare has
combined the three into one, and has drawn incidents from each
to avoid scattering them over a longer period than the time
of action necessitated.
2. The death of Macdonwald, who, in Holinshed,* slew him-
self, is by Shakespeare ascribed to the hand of Macbeth. This
change is introduced-to reflect luster on the warlike character
of the hero.
3. In Holinshed the murder of the King (Duff) is perpe-
trated by four hired servants. In Shakespeare, Macbeth, with
his own hand, murders King Duncan. Shakespeare makes this
modification in order to magnify the horror of the scene and to
enhance the character-interest of the play.
4. In Holinshed, Banquo is murdered after his return from
Macbeth’s banquet; in Shakespeare he is murdered on his way
thither. This change provides an opportunity for displaying
both Macbeth and his wife in a strking situation.
5. According to the historical account, Macbeth reigned sey-
enteen years. Shakespeare has considerably curtailed the time
of action because the development of the tragedy within proper
limits requires rapid movements and swift changes.
Character Digressions
1. Macbeth in history possessed many admirable character-
istics, which Shakespeare has omitted to mention. Holinshed
speaks of him as ‘‘the sure defense and buckler of innocent
people,’’ and states that for some time he ‘‘used great liberaltie
towards the nobles of the realme,’’ and ‘‘set his whole intention
to mainteine justice.’? The purpose of this change is to simplify
and render more consistent the character of Macbeth, and to
accentuate the witches’ influence, which in the play is repre-
sented as being ever at work.
2. Shakespeare has taken his idea of Lady Macbeth from
* See footnote, p. 28.
INTRODUCTION 31
an allusion in Holinshed to the wife of Donald, who incited her
husband to murder King Duff. But in his characterization he
has enlarged and improved upon the hints which he found in the
history. He has made the haughty and ambitious Lady Macbeth
proud of her husband, whom she loves, and for whose sake she
stifles her conscience and changes her nature. Moreover, the
Chronicle contains no suggestion of the ‘‘single ray which lightens
the black depravity of a mind otherwise dead to every softer
feeling of humanity.’’ This change is necessary, because if
Shakespeare had represented his heroine as coarse or inhumanly
eruel, she would have forfeited all claim to human sympathy.
3. The Chronicle represents Banquo as scarcely less guilty
than is the actual murderer of Duncan. We there read that
Macbeth communicated his intent to ‘‘his trustie friends, amongst
whom Banquo was the chiefest.’’ This deviation undoubtedly
‘heightens, by contrast and variety, the interest of the characteri-
zation. Shakespeare again deviates in the character of Banquo
by making him, out of compliment to James I, a legendary
ancestor of the king.
History does not record the fate of the usurper’s queen.
In the Chronicle, Macbeth fled before Macduff. Neither the first
scene of the play; the dagger scene; the scene of the banquet;
nor the sleep-walking scene, has any counterpart in Holinshed.
‘The story of the Scottish Thane, as it stood written in the
Chronicle, is the subject not the action of Macbeth. To convert
a subject—whatever its kind or source—into the action or fable
of a play is the primary task, which in its progressive develop-
ment becomes the entire task of the dramatist.’’—Ward.*
XI. ON WITCHES AND WITCHCRAFT
The modern playgoer is apt to scorn the notion of witches,
and the practice of witchcraft. But modern ideas upon the
* Ward, Adolphus William, born at Hampstead, England, 1837, Aa Eng-
lish educator and writer.
39 MACBETH
subject are very different from those which were prevalent at
the period in which Macbeth was written. It is difficult, in this
age of enlightenment, to dispossess oneself of the negative con-
victions which have gradually grown in intensity since the legal
abolition, in 1736, of witchcraft as a crime, and to regard it as
Shakespeare’s contemporaries regarded it. However, if we bear
in mind a few of the following facts we may be able to under-
stand the views of Elizabethan audiences, who believed in, but
abhorred witchcraft. The eminent lawyers Coke, Bacon, and
Hall, admitted the possibility of witcheraft.
A witch has been defined by a historian of witchcraft as
one ‘‘who can do, or seems to do, strange things, beyond the
power of art and ordinary nature, by virtue of a confederacy
with Satanic powers.”’
Bishop Jewel,* preaching before Queen Elizabeth, in 1558,
remarked: ‘‘It may please your Grace to understand that
Witches and Sorcerers within these last few years are marvel-
ously increased within your Grace’s realm.”’
The numerous trials for witchcraft which took place in the
sixteenth and in the earlier part of the seventeenth centuries,
afford abundant evidence not only that witches were commonly
supposed to exist, but also that those accused of being witches
believed themselves to be such.
In 1576, Bessie Dunlop was accused of having held inter-
course with a devil, who appeared to her in the shape of a
neighbor recently deceased. She was condemned to death upon
her own confession.
In 1590, John Fian, a young schoolmaster, styled ‘‘Register
to the Devil,’’ was aecused of having caused a leak in the ship
which conveyed James I (I of England and VI of Scotland)
and his bride, Anne of Denmark, home to Scotland. During
the trial, Fian showed that by witcheraft he could open locks.
ARS John, born in England 1522; died in 1571. An English bishop and
INTRODUCTION 33
Agnes Sampsoune confessed to King James that to compass
his death she took a black toad, hung it by the hind legs for three
days, and collected the vemon that fell from it.
James I., himself a believer in witchcraft and all kinds of
sorcery, published his ‘‘Demonologie,’’ at Edinburgh, in 1597.
The book was reprinted in London, in 1603, with a preface,
informing the reader of ‘‘the fearfull abounding at this time in
this Countrey, of these detestable slaves of the Devil, the Witches,
or enchanters.’’
In this monarch’s first Parliament, in 1604, a statute passed
both Houses which enacted that ‘‘if any person shall practice
or exercise any invocation or conjuration of any evil or wicked
spirit, or shall consult with, entertain, feed, or reward any evil
and wicked spirit, or take up any dead man, woman, or child
out of his, her, or their grave ... or the skin, bone, or any
‘other part of any dead person to be employed or used in any
manner of witchcraft... orshall ... practice .. . any witch-
eraft ... whereby any person shall be killed, wasted, pined,
or lamed in his or her body or any part thereof, such offender
shall suffer the pains of death as felons, without benefit of clergy
or sanctuary.’’*
In the case of the Lancashire witches, in 1634, seventeen
persons were condemned on the evidence of one boy.
In the case of the Suffolk witches, in 1665, Sir Matthew
Halet was the judge, and Sir Thomas Brownet was the medical
expert witness.
Many other evidences might be quoted, but those we have
given will suffice to prove the implicit and almost universal
belief in witches in Shakespeare’s time, and for many years
* Quoted from Spalding’s ‘Elizabethan Demonology.’’—Spalding, William,
born at Aberdeen, Scotland, 1809; died, 1859. A Scottish critic, philosopher, and
miscellaneous writer. -
+Hale, Sir Matthew, born in England 1609; died in 1676. A celebrated Hng-
lish jurist. : 4 eRe ;
a eeawnes Sir Thomas, born at London 1605; died in 1682. An Hnglish phy-
sician and author.
ee ce
later. The last trial in England was that of Jane Wenham, in
1712, convicted at Hertford, but not executed. '
It is probable that the belief in witches had a religious
origin. Before the conversion of King Aithelberht to Chris-
tianity, in the sixth century, the inhabitants of the British Isles
worshipped a number of native deities of varying importance
and power. On the introduction of Christianity these pagan
deities may be supposed to have been, to some extent, incor-
porated into the national religion, but to have been degraded
to the rank of evil spirits or demons. The religion of Greece
had passed through the same process before the introduction of
Christianity into that country, and there Hecate retained to the
last her position of active patroness and encourager of witch-
craft. Hence the practice became almost indissolubly connected
with her name. These evil spirits or demons were supposed to
be specially concerned with the human race, and the person
particularly susceptible to their influence was ‘‘the pitiable
object, whether man or woman, whom age, infirmity, or poverty,
had humbled to the lowest depth of misery.”’
Witches were commonly supposed to be capable of performing
the wonderful feats which Shakespeare has attributed to the
Three Weird Sisters. It was believed that they could foretell
future events, or ‘‘look into the seeds of time and say which
grain will grow and which will not’’; they could create tempests,
hail, thunder, and lightning; they were able to sink ships, dry
up springs, arrest the course of the sun, stay both day and night,
and change the one into the other; they could compass the death
of those upon whom they had designs, and by means of special
preparations and ointments, could themselves vanish out of
sight. To make their charms they opened graves and from
the dead bodies took fingers, toes, and knees—in the eases of
John Fian and the Witches of the play, IV, i, the members of
unbaptized infants were preferred. They could open locks,
could ride upon the blast, and in riddles or sieves, in egg-shells
INTRODUCTION 35
and cockle-shells sail through tempestuous seas. They sum-
moned souls from the grave, and possessed the power of trans-
forming themselves into wolves, rats, ete.
Witches were held to perform their actions under the direc-
tion of Satan. He was supposed to preside at the Witches’
Sabbath, and to him were assigned at different times the names
Hecate, Diana, and Sybilla. As the direct power of the Evil
One over mankind has always been limited, so in the ease of the
witches, ‘‘they have no authority with fatalistie power to do
violence to the human will.’’ They were unable to destroy the
lives of the persons they persecuted unless they could persuade
them to renounce God. It is to be presumed, therefore, that
the sailor’s wife in I. iii. was a devout woman, for the Witch
proposed to inflict no personal injury upon her, and could do
no more than persecute her husband:
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
‘‘The sort of such as are said to be witches,’’ writes Scot,* in
1584, ‘‘are women which be commonly old, lame, bleareied, pale,
fowle, and full of wrinkles. ... They are leane and deformed,
showing melancholie in their faces, to the horror of all that
see them.’’ A beard was also, in Elizabethan times, a recog-
nized characteristic of the witch. Spensert has given a striking
picture of the habitation of a witch in the hnes—
There in a gloomy hollow glen she found
A little cottage built of stickes and reedes
In homely wise, and wald with sods around;
In which a Witch did dwell, in loathly weedes
And wilful want, all carelesse of her needes.
We have seen how fully Shakespeare availed himself of
the popular traditions relating to witchcraft. It would, how-
* See footnote, p. 28. sey)
7 Spenser, nad born at London, 1552; died in 1599. A celebrated Eng-
lish poet.
236 MACBETH
ever, be an error to think that Shakespeare’s Witches are noth-
ing more than the dramatic impersonations of the witch of
popular tradition. The poet has taken all his local color from
home-bred superstition, but he has given to his creations a
poetical grandeur and an awe which elevates them far above
the conceptions of witches commonly accepted in his time.
Dowden * speaks of them as powers auxiliary to vice existing
outside ourselves, nameless and sexless, and likens them to ‘‘the
terrible old woment of Michael Angelo,t who control the destinies
of man.’’
‘‘Shakespeare fearlessly showed us his weird sisters, ‘the
goddesses of destinie’ brewing infernal charms in their wicked
cauldron. ... Yet these weird sisters remain terrible and sub-
lime. They tingle in every fiber with evil energy, as the tem-
pest does with the electric current; their malignity is inexhaust-
ible; they are wells of sin springing up into everlasting death;
they have their raptures and eecstasies in crime; they snatch with
delight at the relics of impiety and foul disease; they are the
awful inspirers of murder, insanity, suicide.’’—Dowden*
Shakespeare, His Mind and Art.
XII. WHAT IS TRAGEDY ?
Tragedy solves the problems of life as a farce sums up its
follies. Coleridge says that in Shakespeare ‘‘tragedy was poetry
in the deepest earnest; comedy was mirth in the highest zest,
exulting in the removal of all bounds.’’? Again, ‘‘Tragedy as
conceived by Shakespeare,’’ says Dowden,* ‘‘is concerned with
the ruin or the restoration of the soul, and of the life of men.
In other words, its subject is the struggle of good and evil in the
world.’’ <A play is not a tragedy merely because it tells a tale of
aabe footnote, p. 26.
e Fates: Clotho, the spinner; Lachesis, the disposer of lois: and
Atropos, the inevitable. The first spins the thread of life: th fixes i
ene He third Ane it. 2 ) © Ree ee
ichael Angelo (Michelangelo), born at Caprese 1475; died at Rome, 1 5
A famous Italian sculptor, painter, architect, and poet. j woe
INTRODUCTION 37
death or suffering. Its characteristic motive is ‘‘the exhibition
of man in unsuccessful conflict with cireumstances.’’ It must
appeal to our emotions—to our pity or terror—and the actions
which arouse these emotions must, at the same time, elevate the
mind that contemplates them. In a tragedy the result often
springs from a cause quite remote from that to which we
attribute the result. Macbeth is tragic because of the promise
and possibilities which have come to nothing, not because the
hero and his wife died miserable deaths. Throughout the first
half of the play Macbeth seems likely to attain his ends. Even
after he has made the fatal error of murdering Banquo, and of
disclosing his crime to the guests at the banquet, when ruin
threatens him, there is still, in the wonderfully powerful con-
struction of the second half of the play, the suggestion of a
possible recovery. But Macbeth has attempted the impossible,
and because the means he employs are wicked and inhuman, the
inevitable consequences of his action work themselves out, and
the result is tragedy. ‘‘The powers of evil in which he has
trusted turn against him and betray him. His courage becomes
a desperate rage. We are in pain until the horrible necessity
is accomplished.’’
XII. THE CHARACTERS OF THE PLAY
Duncan
Duncan is such a king as might be expected to offer a mark
to rebels, traitors, and ambitious aspirants to sovereignty. He
is ‘‘a man born out of his proper age into a century of intrigue
and violence.’’? He is a virtuous monarch, beloved by the faith-
ful few, but of too refined and peaceful a nature to cope with
the turbulent and warlike spirits against whom he has to con-
tend. At the beginning of the play, he damages his own prestige
and endangers his own position by committing to Macbeth the
safe-guarding of his interests, which he ought himself to have
38 MACBETH
hes
undertaken. He is spoken of as ‘‘the gracious Duncan, a
most sainted king,’’ and one who
Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues (I. vii. 17)
‘‘will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against’’ his murderer.
His too great trustfulness is exhibited by the favors he lavishes
upon his ‘‘peerless kinsman,’’ and by the unsuspicious way in
which he visits Macbeth’s castle and places himself freely in his
hands. It would have been well for him had he known some-
thing of the practical political wisdom displayed by the Gar-
dener in Richard II, and
Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth.
Had he done so, he might have lived to taste the fruits of
duty rendered by loyal subjects. Instead of that, the thane of
Cawdor, ‘‘that most disloyal traitor,’’ a gentleman on whom
Duncan ‘‘built an absolute trust,’’ rent his kingdom with
rebellion, and Macbeth, in whom he placed unbounded confi-
dence, robbed him at once of his kingdom and his life.
In Holinshed * Duncan is weaker and less effective as a king
than he is in Shakespeare. The Chronicle says he was ‘‘so soft
and gentle of nature’’ that men were constrained to wish that
some of Macbeth’s more forcible qualities had been infused into
him.
“The beginning of Dunean’s reigne was verie quiet and
peaceable, without anie notable trouble; but after it was per-
ceived how negligent he was in punishing offenders, manie
misruled persons tooke occasion thereof to trouble the peace
and quiet state of the commonwealth.’’
We read also that the early success of Macdonwald ‘‘did
put him in wonderfull feare, by reason of his small skill in war-
like affaires.’’
* See footnote, p. 28.
INTRODUCTION 39
On the other hand, the Duncan of Holinshed* is neither so
liberal, so saintly, nor so unsuspecting as the Duncan of Shake-
speare, for he ‘‘did what in him lay to defraud him (Mac.
beth) of all manner of title and claime, which he might, in time
to come, pretend unto the crowne.”’
Macbeth
Upon the characters of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth hang, in
great measure, the issues of the play. The uncanny and super-
natural influence of the Witches no doubt counts for much, and
often seems to shape the course of events, but it is important
to remember that if the characters of Macbeth and his wife
had not been exactly what they were, the influence exerted by
the Witches could never have had the results which it actually
had.
Macbeth’s personal valor and generalship are the qualities
which first impress us. He is the life and soul of the army
which Duncan himself should have led to victory. In the first
engagement he is victorious through his personal prowess and
generalship :
But all’s too weak:
For brave Macbeth—well he deserves that name—
Disdaining fortune, with his brandish’d steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour’s minion carved out his passage
Till he faced the slave ;—I. ii. 14.
Nor is he dismayed when the army of the rebel is rein-
forced ‘‘with terrible numbers’’ by the King of Norway, ‘“‘as-
sisted by that most disloyal traitor, the thane of Cawdor.”’
Again the victory falls to Macbeth—‘‘Bellona’s bridegroom ’’—
and he becomes forthwith the hero of the hour. With the prog-
ress of events, as his conscience becomes hardened, and the
powers of evil gradually assume their sway over him, he loses
* See footnote, p. 28.
40 MACBETH
something of his natural fearlessness, but in the hour of action
his courage always reasserts itself. When Lady Macbeth is in
fear lest he should waver from his purpose, it is to his manhood
and his courage that she makes her appeal:
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be more than what you were, you would
Be so much more the man.—l. vii. 49.
This physical courage stands out in strong contrast to his moral
cowardice.
His fears in Banquo ‘‘stick deep’’ because he recognizes
in him virtues which he himself does not possess, because
Banquo, choosing to keep his ‘‘bosom franchised and allegiance
clear,’’ will not become a partner in his crimes. The courage
of Macbeth is the unthinking courage of the animal, whose
instinct is to fight. When he reflects, he hesitates and fears,
until he receives from his wife, or from the sense of security
which he derives from communion with the Witches, the neces-
sary impetus to action. After his degradation his courage
becomes desperation, and by ruthless acts of cruelty and Savagery
he strives to keep aflame within his breast the physical courage
which was once his claim to our admiration. ‘‘Thou shalt not
live,’’? he says of Macduff, another character by whose moral
superiority his own genius is rebuked,
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies,
And sleep in spite of thunder.—IV. i. 85.
Foiled in his purpose against Macduff, his savage frenzy be-
comes the more unrestrained, and he will murder
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line—TIV. i. 152.
His cruelty knows no bounds. ‘‘Sighs and groans and shrieks
that rend the air are made, not mark’d,’’ so thoroughly does he
act upon the resolve to exterminate Macduff and his posterity.
INTRODUCTION 41
Yet he is an object of pity rather than of hate. Even his enemies
feel for him, if they do not actually excuse him:
Some say he’s mad; others, that lesser hate him,
Do eall it valiant fury (V. ii. 13),
says Caithness, and Menteith suggests how terrible is the penalty
he pays for his crimes:
Who then shall blame
His pester’d senses to recoil and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself for being there?—V. ii. 22.
After his courage, Macbeth’s ambition next forces itself upon
our attention. Of this we become conscious when, on his first
appearance in the play, he ‘‘starts, and seems to fear’’ the fair-
sounding prediction of the Witches. His ‘‘rapt’’ behavior, his
anxiety and his brooding over the prophecy, all point to his hope
of one day being king. It seems clear that the thought of the
murder had already passed through his mind. (See I. iii. 51-7,
and J. vii. 48-53.) His triumphant success and the flattering
prediction of the Third Witch, ‘‘All hail, Macbeth! that shalt
be king hereafter!’’ fan the slumbering fires of his ambition into
devouring flames. Near the end of the First Act, after a search-
ing self-examination in connection with the murder he proposes
to commit, he confesses,
I have no spur
To prod the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself,
And falls on the other.—I. vii. 25.
The analysis of Macbeth’s character, as it was at the begin-
ning of the play, is facilitated by the assistance of his wife.
Lady Macbeth knows her husband, and, though she loves and
admires him, yet no excess of passion or of imagination dims the
clearness of her judgment. She sums up his character and her
own fears for him in I. v. 17, and seq.
42 MACBETH
From this passage the reader will observe that even to his
wife Macbeth is but an ordinary man; his ambition is great,
and he wishes to stand well with the world, but he is without
principle and refrains from wrong-doing only from custom or
from the fear of detection. The future of such a man neces-
sarily depends upon his environment and the temptations by
which he is assailed.
Macbeth, at first, appears to be a man of good itentions,
who lives a virtuous life, and who, in an ordinary sphere of
existence, might so continue to the end. But his character is
weak. In the first place, he is unable to resist the alluring
temptations to which his power and his successes give birth; and
secondly, he is unable to resist the over-mastering will of his
cold-blooded, ambitious wife. Another source of his weakness
is his imagination, which, being controlled neither by religion
nor by education, naturally disposes him to lend a ready ear to
the voice of temptation.
His superstition is evident from his susceptibility to the
influence of the Witches, contrasting strongly in the First Scene
with the careless indifference of Banquo; it is seen also in the
“‘air-drawn dagger’’ that marshals him the way that he is
going; in the paroxysm of fear which seizes him immediately
after the murder of Dunean when his wife warns him:
You do unbend your noble strength, to think
So brainsickly of things (II. ii. 44),
and when he dare not look on what he has done. Above all, the
vision of Banquo’s Ghost at the feast, unseen by all except him-
self, shows that he is tremulously alive to superstition. In this
excess of imagination and superstition lie at once his strength
and his weakness as a criminal. At one moment it hurries him on
to crime, by displaying in vivid colors what seems to him the
glorious fruits of ambition; at another it hurls him into the
depths of despair, by calling up the visions of the past, and by
making him see all too clearly the enormity of his crimes.
INTRODUCTION 438
No sooner does Macbeth attain to the summit of his ambiticn
by the murder of Duncan and Banquo, than his character suffers
a complete revolution. He becomes distrustful, treacherous,
cruel; he no longer listens to the voice of conscience, no longer
hesitates when evil suggestions present themselves, but, following
the natural bent of his evil propensities, he marches madly
from crime to crime. We lose our sympathy with him until we
see that he is suffering a penalty sterner and more terrible than
the death he had inflicted upon Duncan and Banquo. ‘‘He
puts on despondency,’’ says Coleridge,* ‘‘the final heart-armor
of the wretched, and would fain think everything shadowy and
unsubstantial, as indeed all things are to those who cannot regard
them as symbols of goodness.’’
‘“‘Macbeth retained enough of goodness to make him a hag-
gard, miserable criminal; never enough to restrain him from
a crime. ... Yet the soul of Macbeth never quite disappears
into the blackness of darkness. He is a cloud without water,
carried about of winds; a tree whose fruit withers, but not even
to the last quite plucked up by the roots. For the dull ferocity
of Macbeth is joyless. ... Macbeth remembers that he once
knew there was such a thing as human goodness. He stands a
haggard shadow against the handsbreadth of pale sky which
yields us sufficient light to see him.’’—Dowden.t
‘“‘Thus Macbeth is essentially the practical man, the man
of action, of the highest experience, power, and energy in mil-
itary and political command, accustomed to the closest connec-
tion between willing and doing. He is one who, in another age,
would have worked out the problem of free trade, or unified
Germany, or engineered the Suez Canal. On the other hand, he
has concerned himself little with things transcendental; he is
poorly disciplined in thought and goodness; prepared for any
emergency in which there is anything to be done, yet a mental
* See footnote, p. 26.
7See footnote, p. 26.
44 MACBETH
crisis or a moral problem afflicts him with the shock of an
unfamiliar situation.’’—Moulton.*
‘‘Macbeth in meeting them (the Witches) has to struggle
against no external power, but only with his own nature; they
bring to light the evil side of his character, which was not to be
read in his face; he does not stumble upon the plans of his
royal ambition, because the allurement approaches him from
without; but this temptation is sensibly awakened in hin, be-
cause those plans have long been slumbering in his soul. Within
himself dwell these spirits of evil, which allure him with the
delusions of his aspiring mind. They approach him, as he
stands on the highest step of his fortune, his favor, and his
valor.’’—Gervinus.t
‘The preservation of Macbeth’s dignity in a degree suffi-
cient to retain our sympathy, in spite of the preponderance of
his wife’s nature over his, depends on the two facts of his
undoubted heroism in his relations with men, and his great ten-
derness for the woman whose evil will is made powerful over his
partly by his affection for her. It is remarkable that hardly
one scene passes where they are brought together in which he
does not address to her some endearing appellation; and from
his first written words to her whom he calls his ‘Dearest part-
ner of greatness,’ to his pathetic appeal to her physician for
some alleviation of her moral plagues, a love of extreme strength
and tenderness is constantly manifested in every address to or
mention of her that he makes.’’—Frances Anne Kemble.t
Lady Macbeth
In his consideration of Lady Macbeth’s character the reader
will do well to divest himself of the opinion frequently enter-
tained, that she is nothing but a cruel monster, lacking the com-
* Moulton, Richard Green, born at Preston, England, 1849; still livin
1915. An English author, critic, and educator. é <= =
+ See footnote, p. 24.
t Kemble, Frances Anne, born at London, 1809; died, 1893. An Anglo-
American actress, Shakespearean reader, and author,
INTRODUCTION 45
mon feelings of humanity, altogether unworthy of admiration
or sympathy. We shall endeavor in our analysis of her char-
acter to show that she possesses the feelings and much of the ten-
derness natural to a woman; and further, what are the motives
and the influences that cause her to aid in so foul and so treach-
erous a murder.
When first we see Lady Macbeth she is reading the letter
from her husband, in which he recounts to her, his ‘‘dearest
partner of greatness,’’ his successes, his superstitions, and his
hopes. From her comments on the letter we perceive that she
has studied well her husband’s character, admires his greatness,
and wishes for him all that he wishes for himself. We can
perceive no tone of selfishness in her ambition. Her whole soul
is wrapped up in his schemes for his own advancement, and
the part she assigns to herself is the furtherance of these schemes ;
knowing his weakness she resolves to use the whole force of her
superior will to keep him in the course he has traced out for
himself. ‘‘ Hie thee hither,’’ she says,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown’d withal—lI. vy. 28.
When husband and wife meet, a few moments later, her admir-
ation is expressed in the greeting, ‘‘Great Glamis! worthy
Cawdor !’’ while he, in terms of fondness, addresses her as ‘‘My
dearest love.’’ Elsewhere in the play the bond of love and con-
fidence which unites them is indicated by such expressions as
‘“eentle my lord,’’ and ‘‘worthy thane,’’ on the one hand, and
on the other, ‘‘my love,’’ ‘‘dear wife,’’? and ‘‘dearest chuck.’’
After the murder of Duncan, she exerts all her powers to give
her husband courage and to support him in his weakness. In
the banquet scene, when his superstitious fears and loss of self-
command threaten certain ruin to both, she utters no word of
46 MACBETH
reproach, but strives only to comfort and to excuse him. ‘‘You
lack the season of all natures, sleep,’’ is the excuse she makes
for the fatal mistake he has committed.
Her feminine nature is evident in her devotion to her lord.
Her cruelty is not natural, but is rather the result of the tem-
porary repression of her nature by the force of her will. Where
another woman might have struggled against the sinful prompt-
ings of her heart, she struggles violently against the softer side
of her nature:
Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here,
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty!—TI. v. 42.
Such is her prayer to the powers of evil, ‘‘murdering minis-
ters,’’ when, for the sake of her husband, she resolves to commit
the murder that he may be saved the hateful task; and such is
her longing to serve him, that she would do it but for a feeling
of tenderness against which she has not thought to steel herself:
Had he not resembled
My father as he slept, I had done ’t.—IT. ii. 12.
Thus her motive for the crime appears to be her unselfish love
for her husband, for whom she wills the highest glory which he
ean attain.
We need not multiply instances of her will power, but only
suggest how fearful must have been the inward struggle before
she returned to the chamber of death, to place the daggers by the
side of the murdered Duncan. Her singleness of purpose is to be
attributed in great measure to her lack of imagination. She
sees no ghosts; no witches lie in wait for her. Her practical —
nature perceives the direct road to success, and until the climax
is reached she never falters. While her husband’s strength
lies in action, hers is in the sphere of thought. But in her
thoughts she admits no compunctious visitings of nature. ‘The
INTRODUCTION 47
attempt and not the deed confounds us,’’ and ‘‘What need we
fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account,’’
express her view of the murder, and her hopes for the realiza-
tion of her husband’s ambition,
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom.—l. y. 71.
Although Lady Macbeth succeeds for a time in stifling her
conscience, and although she refrains from all outward expres-
sion of remorse, Shakespeare has, most skilfully, shown that such
feelings did at times threaten to visit her. When she chides her
husband in the words,
These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad (II. ii. 32),
we may believe she feels the early premonitions of the fate that
eventually overtakes her. When at last her mind gives way
under the fearful strain she has put upon it, her unconscious
utterances show us something of the nature which she has all
the time been striving in vain to annihilate. Her stifled remorse
reveals itself in her agitated sleep, in the awful sigh thrice
repeated that bespeaks a heart ‘‘sorely charged.’’ In her
assumed character she had once striven to encourage her husband
by urging the fact that a little water would wash away the evi-
dence of the deed, but now her natural feminine abhorrence of
the sight and smell of blood finds expression in these heart-
rending words, ‘‘Here’s the smell of the blood still: all the
perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand. Oh, oh,
oh!?’ She has trusted too much to an unsafe reliance upon her
human will.
‘‘More needs she the divine than the physician.’’ Her
death was sudden and self-inflicted. In the awfulness of her
end we are constrained to suspend judgment upon her crimes,
and to repeat with the doctor, ‘God, God forgive us all!’
‘In the mind of Lady Macbeth, ambition is represented as
48 MACBETH
the ruling motive, an intense overmastering passion, which is
gratified at the expense of every just and generous principle,
and every feminine feeling. In the pursuit of her object, she is
cruel, treacherous, and daring. She is doubly, trebly dyed in
guilt and blood; for the murder she instigated is rendered more
frightful by disloyalty and ingratitude, and by the violation of
all the most sacred Claims of kindred and hospitality When
her husban2’s siore KIndly nature snrinks from the perpetration
of the deed of horror, she, like an evil genius, whispers him on
to his damnation. The full measure of her wickedness is never
disguised, the magnitude and atrocity of her crime are never
extenuated, forgotten, or forgiven, in the whole course of the
play. ... Yet she is not a mere monster of depravity, with
whom we have nothing in common, nor a meteor whose de-
stroying path we watch in ignorant fright and amaze. She
is a terrible impersonation of evil passions and mighty powers,
never so far removed from our own nature as to be east beyond
the pale of our sympathies; for the woman herself remains a
woman to the last—still linked with ker sex and with humanity
‘The power of religion alone could have controlled such a
mind; but it is often the misfortune of a very proud, strong, and
gifted spirit, without sense of religion, that, instead of looking
upward to find a superior, it looks round and imagines it sees all
things as subject to itself. Lady Macbeth is placed in a dark,
ignorant, iron age; her powerful intellect is slightly tinged with
its credulity and superstitions, but she has no religious feeling to
restrain the force of will. She is a stern fatalist in principle and
action—‘ what is done, is done,’ and would be done over again
under the same circumstances: her remorse is without repent-
ance, or any reference to an offended Deity; it arises from the
pang of a wounded conscience, the recoil of the violated feelings
of nature; it is the horror of the past, not the terror of the
future; the torture of self-condemnation, not the fear of judg-
INTRODUCTION 49
ment; it is strong as her soul, deep as her guilt, fatal as her
resolve, and terrible as her crime.’’—Mrs. Jameson.*
Banquo
Banquo acts as a foil to Macbeth. They are both brave and
successful generals, and they are exposed to the same tempta-
tions, but because their characters are opposed, their actions and
careers present strong contrasts. Banquo’s bravery is not
inferior to that of Macbeth. They are spoken of together, ‘‘As
cannons overcharged with double cracks,’’ and Macbeth gives tes-
timony to ‘‘his royalty of nature,’’ when he says:
Reigns that which would be fear’d; ’tis much he dares,
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety.—ITI. i. 50.
The nobility of Banquo’s nature is evidenced when Duncan
greets the victorious generals on their return from battle. His
modesty is no less remarkable than his freedom from envy.
When Duncan says,
Noble Banquo,
Thou hast no less deserved, nor must be known
No less to have done so, let me infold thee
And hold thee to my heart (I. iv. 29),
he modestly replies,
There if I grow,
The harvest is your own (I. iv. 32),
and a moment later, he entertains the king with ‘‘commenda-
tions’? (not expressed in the play) of his more ambitious col-
league. His speech before Macbeth’s castle, I. vi. 3-10, and the
imagery he employs in connection with Fleance, II. i. 4, 5, give
evidence of a refined and poetic nature.
* Jameson, Mrs., née Anna Brownell Murphy, born at Dublin, Ireland,
1794; died, 1860. An Irish authoress and essayist.
50 MACBETH
Although Banquo first addresses the Witches, in the opening
scene, it is noticeable that they make no reply, and utter no
word until Macbeth has conjured them to speak. When they
do speak it is in reply, not to Banquo’s questions, but to the
unexpressed thoughts of Macbeth, who starts and seems to fear
‘“things that do sound so fair.’’ Upon reflection, Banquo recog-
nizes in the Witches ‘‘instruments of darkness,’’ against which
he must put himself on his guard, for ‘‘oftentimes,’’ he says,
“to win us to our harm”’ they tell us truths,
Win us with honest trifles, to betray ’s
In deepest consequence.—lI. iii. 126.
His own mind is not free from superstition, nor from a slight
tinge of ambition, but he struggles against temptation and battles
with the evil thoughts that assail him. The conflict is a stern
one; he dare not even sleep:
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers,
Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature
Gives way to in respose!—ITI. i. 6.
The contrast between his open, honest nature and the darker and
more dissembling character of Macbeth, is clearly brought out
in their conversation on the subject of the Witches:
Ban.: T dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
To you they have show’d some truth.
Macb.: I think not of them:
Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
We would spend it in some words upon that business,
If you would grant the time.
Ban.: At your kind’st leisure.
Macebd.: If you shall cleave to my consent, when ’tis,
It shall make honour for you.
Ban.: So I lose none
In seeking to augment it, but still keep
My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,
I shall be counsell’d.—II. i. 20-9.
INTRODUCTION 51
Yet, Banquo is not without his weakness. Ruin comes upon
him through his éarelessness and irresolution. He suspects Mac-
beth but does nothing in self-defense. He wilfully shuts his
eyes to the enormity of Macbeth’s crime against Duncan, and
superstitiously accepts the murder as inevitable, taking com-
fort from the thought that,
it was said
It should not stand in thy posterity,
But that myself should be the root and father
Of many kings.—III. i. 3.
Thus by his inactivity and supineness he helps to bring about his
own doom.
Macduff
Macduff acts an insignificant part in the earlier scenes of the
play. No sooner is Banquo murdered, however, than Macduff
comes into prominence, and exercises an important influence in
shaping the course of events.
He is hated and feared by Macbeth, who feels conscious of his
moral superiority. When Macbeth slays Duncan’s chamberlains,
Macduff sternly asks him, ‘‘Wherefore did you so?’’ and he
shows no sympathy with the murderer. Although he possesses
none of the secret information which Banquo holds, he has long
regarded Macbeth with suspicion. When Macbeth goes to Scone
Macduff expresses his fears, ‘‘Lest our old robes sit easier than
our new!’’
Unlike Banquo, who keeps his suspicions to himself, and is
content to await events, Macduff, by his ‘‘broad words,’’ and
irreconcilable demeanor, brings upon himself the active hostility
of the tyrant. He offends the usurper by refusing to attend
the banquet; then, scenting danger, not only to himself but to
his country, he flees to England for assistance. In contrast to
Banquo he is intensely loyal and patriotic. He leaves his castle
and his wife and children at the mercy of his enemies, that he
52 MACBETH
may stir Malcolm to stand and defend his ‘‘down-fallen birth-
dom.’’? His patriotism shines through all his speeches; the sor-
rowful accents in which the words, ‘‘O Scotland, Scotland!’’
are uttered cannot fail to convince the most distrustful. Such
sincerity wins even the suspicious Malcolm, who at last places
himself unreservedly in his hands. Macduff is a man of few
words, and in this respect is a contrast to Macbeth. When the
other leaders discuss their fears and their hopes, Macduff remains
silent, or interposes only to end the discussion and urge caution,
Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.—V. iv. 14.
When he meets Macbeth upon the field of battle he wastes no
time in violent abuse or empty threats—
I have no words:
My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out.—V. vill. 6.
‘“So noble, so blameless, so clement, we should think Macduff
entirely wanting in that goad of sharp ambition necessary to
make him a victorious opponent of Macbeth, and to enable him
to stand his ground against that mighty and infuriated man;
the poet, therefore, by the horrible extermination of his family,
divests him of the milk of human kindness, and makes him by
this means at once fitted to be the conqueror of Macbeth. This
is wonderfully shown by a couple of strokes in that scene
between Macduff and Malcolm. When he hears the dreadful
news, he silently draws his hat over his brows and conceals his
sorrow. ‘My children, too? My wife killed, too?’ are his only
words, and then the self-reproach: ‘And I must be from thence?’
Maleolm bids him seek comfort in revenge. He heeds him not.
‘He has no children!’ . . . The most famous actors of Macduff
in Garrick’s time, Wilks and Ryan, saw in these words only the
deepest expression of paternal agony, out of which Macduff arises
INTRODUCTION 53
only by degrees to composure and the desire for revenge. Noth-
ing can be plainer than this. . . . Malcolm reminds him once
more to make this ‘the whetstone of his sword.’ And even now
Macduff feels himself only divided between his fatherly feelings
and his desire for vengeance; he could play the woman with his
eyes, and braggart with his tongue. And now at length he yields
to the thirst for revenge, which longs for action with the impa-
tience of Macbeth, and is not to be appeased with words and
delays. ’’—Gervinus.*
Malcolm
The character of Malcolm presents no difficulty to the
student of the drama. His distinguishing characteristic is cau-
tion, and in this respect he is a contrast to almost all the other
personages in the play. He is as suspicious as his father, Duncan,
was trusting. On Duncan’s assassination he flees to England to
avoid Macbeth’s ‘‘murderous shaft,’’ which he feels is aimed at
him. He distrusts the ‘‘good Macduff,’’ and is slow to accept his
protestations of patriotism and loyalty. As king, he possesses
many royal graces, and therein forms a contrast to the tyrant
Macbeth. Himself the son of a ‘‘most sainted king’’ and a
saintly mother, and favored during his stay in England by the
constant society of the pious Edward, he seems to have imbibed
a religious spirit differing much from the superstition and sense
of security which distinguish several of the other characters. He
thus describes himself :
Searcely have coveted what was mine own,
At no time broke my faith, would not betray
The devil to his fellow, and delight
No less in truth than life:—IV. iii. 119.
The rough experiences through which he passes develop his
character, and his assumption of the crown opens a new era of
prosperity and civilization for Scotland.
* See footnote, p. 24.
54 MACBETH
The Witches
The Witches can hardly be said to possess individual charac-
ters any more than they possess distinctive names. They may
be regarded as sexless, for Banquo says to them,
You should be women,
And yet your beards forbid me to interpret
That you are so—l, iii. 45.
They may be looked upon as the incarnation of all wickedness
and all temptation, not only that which comes from without, but
more particularly that which proceeds from within one’s own
heart. Their powers, their characteristics, and the influence they
exert upon the destinies of ‘‘human mortals’’ have been referred
to earlier in the Introduction, and need no further discussion.
XIV, THE TRUE ACCOUNT OF THE MACBETH PERIOD OF
SCOTTISH HISTORY
The fact-that the chronicle of Holinshed departs in many
important respects from historic truth has been well established.
It is not, however, easy, with the materials at hand, to arrive
at anything like a complete and connected account of the history
of the Macbeth period; but the following brief outline, derived
from authentic sources, may, so far as it goes, be considered to
represent fact as opposed to fiction.
Malcolm ITI was succeeded in 1034 by his grandson Duncan,
who reigned till 1040, and who married a daughter of the North-
umbrian Earl, Siward. After marching south and making an
unsuccessful attempt upon Durham, Duncan was compelled to
return to Scotland to resist the invasion of his kinsman, Thorfinn,
who at that time held the Orkneys, Caithness, Sutherland, and
the Hebrides. Duncan was defeated by Thorfinn on the Pent-
land Firth, and was killed at Bothgownan, near Elgin, by his
own general, Macbeth.
INTRODUCTION 55
Macbeth was the son of Finlay, mormaer (or earl) of Moray,
whose wife, Gruoch, was the granddaughter of Kenneth II, the
father of Malcolm II. Thus Macbeth had some title to the sov-
ereignty, if it could descend by females. Macbeth reigned for
seventeen years, from 1040 to 1057. He seems to have been an
able and a popular monarch; he successfully repelled the attacks
of Siward on behalf of his grandson. He fell in the battle of
Lumphanan, in Mar, fighting against the young Malcolm, aided
by Tostig, the son of Earl Godwine. Macbeth was succeeded on
the throne by Lulach, a former mormaer of Moray, who, how-
ever, reigned for only a few months, and was slain at Essie in
Strathbagie (N.W. Aberdeen). He was sueceeded by Malcolm
Cammore (1058-93), who had spent his youth at the court of
Edward the Confessor.
These few facts are all that can be regarded as historical.
The rest of Holinshed’s account is fiction.
Nothing is known of the rebellious Thane of Cawdor; nor
was there in Duncan’s reign any invasion by Sweno. The name
of Banquo does not appear in any authentic records, nor is that
of Fleance to be found among the ancestry of James I. Macbeth,
so far from being defeated by ‘‘Old Siward, with ten thousand
warlike men,’’ had been successful in driving the Northumbrian
Earl out of his kingdom, and outlived him. Nothing is known of
the manner of Lady Macbeth’s death or of the existence of Lady
Macduff.
XV. ABSTRACT OF THE PLAY
(Abbreviated from Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare)
Act I, Scene ii. When Duncan the Meek reigned king of
Scotland there lived a great thane, or lord, called Macbeth. This
Macbeth was a near kinsman to the king, and was held in great
esteem at court for his valor and conduct in the wars, an
example of which he had lately given, in defeating a rebel
army assisted by the troops of Norway in terrible numbers.
56 MACBETH
Act I, Scene ili. The two Scottish generals, Macbeth and
Banquo, returned victorious from this great battle. Their way
lay over a blasted heath, where they were stopped by the strange
appearance of three figures, like women, except that they had
beards and their withered skins and wild attire made them look
not like any earthly creatures. Banquo first addressed them,
when they, seemingly offended, laid each her choppy finger upon
her skinny lips, in token of silence; then the first saluted Macbeth
with the title ‘‘Thane of Glamis;’’ and the second called him
‘“Thane of Cawdor,’’ and the third cried out ‘‘ All hail! king that
shall be hereafter!’? Such a prophetic greeting not a little
amazed him, for he knew that while the king’s sons lived he could
not hope to succeed to the throne. Then turning to Banquo they
pronounced him, in riddling terms, to be lesser than Macbeth
and greater! not so happy, but much happier! and prophesied
that though he should never reign, yet his sons after him should
be kings in Scotland. They then vanished.
While they stood pondering on the strangeness of this adven-
ture, there arrived certain messengers from the king who were
empowered to confer upon Macbeth the dignity of Thane of
Cawdor. An event so mysteriously corresponding with the
prediction of the witches astonished Macbeth, and he stood rapt
in amazement, unable to make reply to the messengers: then
swelling hopes arose in his mind that the prediction of the third
witch might in like manner have its accomplishment, and that
he should one day reign king in Scotland. Turning to Banquo,
he said, ‘‘Do you not hope that your children shall be kings,
when what the witches promised to me has so wonderfully come
to pass?’’ ‘‘That hope,’’ answered the general, ‘‘might induce
you to aim at the throne: but oftentimes these ministers of
darkness tell us truths in little things to betray us into deeds of
greatest consequence.’’ But the wicked suggestions of the
witches had sunk too deep into the mind of Macbeth to allow
him to attend to the warnings of the good Banquo. From that
INTRODUCTION 57
time he bent all his thoughts how to compass the throne of
Scotland.
Act I, Scene v. Macbeth communicated to his wife the strange
prediction of the weird sisters. She was a bad, ambitious woman,
and cared not by what means she and her husband could arrive
at greatness.
Act I, Scenes v, vi, and vii. She spurred on the reluctant
purpose of Macbeth to murder the king, and she did not cease to
represent his murder as a step absolutely necessary to the ful-
filment of the flattering prophecy.
It happened at this time that the king came to Macbeth’s
house attended by his two sons, Malcolm and Donalbain, and
a numerous train of thanes and attendants, the more to honor
Macbeth for the triumphal success of his wars. The king
entered the castle, well pleased with the place, and not less
so with the attentions and respect of his honored hostess, Lady
Macbeth, who had the art of covering treacherous purposes
with smiles, and of looking like the innocent flower while she
was indeed the serpent under it. The king, being tired with his
journey, went early to bed, and in his stateroom two grooms of
his chamber (as was the custom) slept beside him. He had been
unusually pleased with his reception, and had made presents,
before he retired, to his principal officers, and had sent a rich
diamond to Lady Macbeth, greeting her by the name of his most
kind hostess.
Act II, Scenes i and ii. Now was the middle of the night,
when over half the world nature seems dead, and wicked dreams
abuse men’s minds asleep, and none but the wolf and the mur-
derer is abroad. This was the time when Lady Macbeth waked
to plot the murder of the king. She would not have undertaken
a deed so abhorrent to her sex but that she feared her husband’s
nature, that it was too full of the milk of human kindness to do
a contrived murder. She knew him to be ambitious, but she
doubted his resolution. So with her own hands, armed with a
58 MACBETH
dagger, she approached the king’s bed, having taken care to ply
the grooms of his chamber so with wine that they slept intoxi-
eated and careless of their charge. There lay Duncan, in a
sound sleep after the fatigues of his journey, and as she viewed
him earnestly, there was something in his face, which so much
resembled her own father, that she had not the courage to
proceed.
She returned to confer with her husband, whose resolution
had begun to stagger. She found him in a conflict of mind
inclining to the better part, and resolving to proceed no further.
But she, being a woman not easily shaken from her evil purpose,
began to pour in at his ears words which infused a portion of her
own spirit into his mind, assigning reason upon reason why he
should not shrink from what he had undertaken; how easy the
deed was; how soon it would be over; and how the action of one
short night would give to all their nights and days to come
sovereign sway and royalty! Then she threw contempt on
his change of purpose, and accused him of fickleness and cow-
ardice. Then she added how practicable it was to lay the guilt
of the deed upon the drunken, sleepy grooms. And with the
valor of her tongue she so chastised his sluggish resolutions, that
he once more summoned up courage to the bloody business.
So, taking the dagger in his hand, he softly stole in the dark
to the room where Duncan lay; and as he went, he thought he
saw another dagger in the air, with the handle towards him, and
on the blade and at the point of it drops of blood; but when he
tried to grasp at it, it was nothing but air, a mere phantasm pro-
ceeding from his own hot and oppressed brain and the business
he had in hand. Getting rid of this fear, he entered the king’s
room, and dispatched him with one stroke of his dagger.
With his mind full of horrible imaginations, Macbeth re-
turned to his listening wife, who began to think he had failed of
his purpose, and that the deed was somehow frustrated. He
came in so distracted a state that she reproached him with his
INTRODUCTION 59
want of firmness, and sent him to wash his hands of the blood
which stained them, while she took his dagger, with purpose to
stain the cheeks of the grooms with blood, to make it seem their
guilt.
Act II, Scene iii. Morning came, and with it the discovery
of the murder, which could not be concealed; and though Mac-
beth and his lady made great show of grief, and the proofs
against the grooms were strong, yet the entire suspicion fell
upon Macbeth, whose inducements to such a deed were so much
more forcible than such poor, silly grooms could be supposed to
have; and Duncan’s two sons fled. Malcolm, the eldest, sought
refuge in the English court; and the youngest, Donalbain, made
his escape to Ireland.
Act II, Scene iv. The king’s sons, who should have suc-
ceeded him, having thus vacated the throne, Macbeth as next heir
was crowned king, and thus the prediction of the weird sisters
was literally accomplished.
Act ITI, Scenes i, ii, and iii. Though placed so high, Mac-
beth could not forget the prophecy of the weird sisters, that,
though he should be king, yet not his children, but the children
of Banquo, should be kings after him. The thought of this, and
that he had defiled his hands with blood, and done so great
crimes, only to place the posterity of Banquo upon the throne,
so rankled within him that he determined to put to death both
Banquo and his son, to make void the predictions of the weird
sisters, which in his own case had been so remarkably brought
to pass. For this purpose he made a great supper, to which he
invited all the chief thanes, among them being Banquo and his
son Fleance. The way by which Banquo was to pass to the
palace at night was beset by murderers appointed by Macbeth.
They stabbed Banquo, but in the scuffle Fleance escaped.
Act III, Scene iv. At supper the queen played the hostess
with a gracefulness and attention which conciliated every one
present, and Macbeth discoursed freely with his thanes and
60 MACBETH
nobles, saying that all that was honorable in the country was
under his roof if he had but his good friend Banquo present,
whom yet he hoped he should rather have to chide for neglect
than to lament for any mischance. Just at these words the ghost
of Banquo entered the room and placed himself on the chair
which Macbeth was about to occupy. Though Macbeth was a
bold man, at this horrible sight his cheeks turned white with
fear, and he stood quite unmanned, with his eyes fixed upon the
ghost. His queen and all the nobles, who saw nothing, but per-
ceived him gazing (as they thought) upon an empty chair, took
it for a fit of distraction; and she reproached him, whispering
that it was but the same fancy which had made him see the dag-
ger in the air when he was about to kill Duncan. But Macbeth
continued to see the ghost, and gave no heed to all they could
say, while he addressed it with distracted words, yet so signifi-
cant that his queen, fearing the dreadful secret would be dis-
closed, in great haste dismissed the guests, excusing the infirmity
of Macbeth as a disorder he was often troubled with.
To such dreadful fancies Macbeth was subject, and being
troubled at the escape of Fleance, he determined once more to
seek out the weird sisters and know from them the worst.
Act IV, Scene i. He sought them in a cave upon the heath,
where they, who knew by foresight of his coming, were engaged
in preparing their dreadful charms, horrid ingredients, by means
of which they conjured up infernal spirits to reveal to them
futurity.
It was demanded of Macbeth whether he would have his
doubts resolved by them or by their masters, the spirits. He,
nothing daunted by the dreadful ceremonies which : saw,
boldly answered, ‘‘Where are they? let me see them.’’ And
they called the spirits, which were three. And the first arose in
the likeness of an armed head, and he called Macbeth by name,
and bid him beware of the Thane of Fife, for which caution
Macbeth thanked him, for Macbeth had entertained a jealousy
INTRODUCTION 61
of Macduff, the Thane of Fife. And the second Spirit arose in
the likeness of a bloody child, and he ealled Macbeth by name,
and bid him have no fear, but laugh to scorn the power of man,
for none of woman born should have power to hurt him: and he
advised him to be bloody, bold, and resolute. ‘‘Then live, Mac-
duff !’’ eried the king; ‘‘what need I fear of thee? but yet I will
make assurance doubly sure. Thou shalt not live; that I may
tell pale-hearted Fear it lies, and sleep in spite of thunder.’’
That spirit being dismissed, a third arose, in the form of a child
crowned, with a tree in his hand. He called Macbeth by name,
and comforted him against conspiracies, saying that he should
never be vanquished until the wood of Birnam to Dunsinane
Hill should come against him. ‘‘Sweet bodements! good!’’ eried
Macbeth; ‘‘who can unfix the forest and move it from its earth-
bound roots? I see I shall live the usual period of man’s life,
and not be cut off by a violent death. But my heart throbs to
know one thing. Tell me, if your art can tell so much, if
Banquo’s issue shall ever reign in this kingdom?’’ Here the
cauldron sunk into the ground, and a noise of music was heard,
and eight shadows, like kings, passed by Macbeth, and Banquo
last, who bore a glass which showed the figures of many more;
and Banquo, all bloody, smiled upon Macbeth, and pointed to
them, by which Macbeth knew that these were the posterity of
Banquo, who should reign after him in Scotland; and the
witches, with a sound of soft music, and with dancing, making
a show of duty and welcome to Macbeth, vanished. And
from this time the thoughts of Macbeth were all bloody and
dreadful.
The first thing he heard when he got out of the witches’ cave
was that Macduff had fled to England.
Act IV, Scene ii. Stung with rage, he set upon his castle
and put Macduff’s wife and children, whom the thane had left
behind, to the sword, and extended the slaughter to all who
claimed the least relationship to Macduff.
62 MACBETH
Act IV, Scene iii. These and such like deeds alienated the
minds of all his chief nobility from him.
Act V, Scenes i and iv. Such as could, fled to join with Mal-
colm and Macduff, who were now approaching with a powerful
army which they had raised in England; and the rest secretly
wished success to their arms, though for fear of Macbeth they
could take no active part. His recruits went on slowly. Every-
body hated the tyrant; nobody loved or honored him, but all
suspected him, and he began to envy the condition of Duncan,
whom he had murdered, who slept soundly in his grave, against
whom treason had done its worst: neither steel nor poison,
domestic malice nor foreign levies, could hurt him any longer.
Act V, Scene v. While these things were acting, the queen,
who had been the sole partner in his wickedness, in whose bosom
he could sometimes seek a momentary repose from those terrible
dreams which afflicted them both nightly, died, it is supposed by
her own hands, unable to bear the remorse of guilt and public
hate; by which event he was left alone, without a soul to love or
eare for him, or a friend to whom he could confide his wicked
purposes.
He grew careless of life, and wished for death; but the near
approach of Malcolm’s army roused in him what remained of
his ancient courage, and he determined to die (as he expressed
it) ‘‘with armor on his back.’’ Besides this, the hollow promises
of the witches had filled him with false confidence, and he
remembered the sayings of the spirits, that none of woman born
was to hurt him, and that he was never to be vanquished till
Birnam Wood should come to Dunsinane, which he thought could
never be. Se he shut himself up in his castle, whose impreg-
nable strength was such as defied a siege. Here he sullenly
awaited the approach of Malcolm. When, upon a day, there
came a messenger to him, pale and shaking with fear, almost
unable to report that which he had seen; for he averred that as
he stood upon his watch on the hill, he looked towards Birnam,
‘
INTRODUCTION 63
and to his thinking the wood began to move! Macbeth now
began to faint in resolution and to doubt the equivocal speeches
of the spirits. ‘‘However,’’ said he, ‘‘if this which he avouches
be true, let us arm and out. There is no flying hence, nor stay-
ing here. I begin to be weary of the sun, and wish my life at
an end.’’ With these desperate speeches he sallied forth upon
the besiegers, who had now come up to the castle.
Act V, Scenes iv and vi. The strange appearance, which had
given the messenger an idea of a wood moving, is easily solved.
When the besieging army marched through the wood of Birnam,
Maleolm, like a skilful general, instructed his soldiers to hew
down every one a bough and bear it before him, by way of con-
cealing the true numbers of his host. Thus were the words of
the spirit brought to pass in a sense different from that in which
Macbeth had understood them, and one great hold of his confi-
dence was gone.
Act V, Scene vii. And now a severe skirmishing took place
in which Macbeth, though feebly supported, yet fought with the
extreme of rage and valor, cutting to pieces all who were opposed
to him, till he came to where Macduff was fighting.
Act V, Scene viii. Seeing Macduff, and remembering the
caution of the spirit who had counseled him to avoid Macduff
above all men, he would have turned, but Macduff who had been
seeking him through the whole fight opposed his turning, and a
fierce contest ensued. Then Macbeth remembered the words of
the spirit, how none of woman born should hurt him; and smil-
ing confidently, he said to Macduff: ‘‘Thou losest thy labor,
Macduff. As easily thou mayest impress the air with thy sword
as make me vulnerable. I bear a charmed life which must not
yield to one of woman born.’’ ‘‘Despair thy charm,’’ said Mac-
duff, ‘‘and let that lying spirit whom thou hast served tell thee
that Macduff was never born of woman, never as the ordinary
manner of men is to be born, but was untimely taken from his
mother.’’ ‘‘Accursed be the tongue which tells me so,’’ said the
64 MACBETH
trembling Macbeth, who felt his last hold of confidence give way;
““and let never man in future believe the lying equivocations of
witches and juggling spirits who deceive us in words which have
double senses; and while they keep their promise literally, disap-
point our hopes with a different meaning. I will not fight with
thee.’’
‘“‘Then, live!’’ said Macduff ; ‘‘we will have a show of thee as
men show monsters, and a painted board on which shall be writ-
ten, ‘Here men may see the tyrant!’’? ‘“‘N ever,’’ said Macbeth,
whose courage returned with despair; ‘‘I will not live to kiss the
ground before young Malcolm’s feet, and to be baited with the
curses of the rabble. Though Birnam Wood be come to Dun-
sinane, and thou opposed to me who wast never born of woman,
yet I will try the last.’’? With these frantic words he threw him-
self upon Macduff who, after a severe struggle, in the end over-
came hin, and, cutting off his head, made a present of it to the
young and lawful king, Malcolm, who took upon him the gov-
ernment which, by the machinations of the usurper, he had so
long been deprived of, and ascended the throne of Dunean the
Meek amid the acclamations of the nobles and the people.’’
XVI. TIME OF ACTION OF THE PLAY
The length of time supposed to be covered by the events of
the play is nine days, with intervals.
Day 1. Act I. Scenes i.-iii. Dives 2A cuehls Scenes i.-iv.
Day 2. Act I. Scenes iv.-vii.
Interval of a week or two.
Day 4. Act IIT. Scenes i.-v.
Act ITI. Scene vi. ‘‘An impossible time.??
Day 5. Act IV. Scene i. Day 6. Act IV. Seene ii.
Interval of a week or two.
Day 7. Act IV. Scene iii. Act V. Scene i.
Interval of a few weeks.
Day 8. Act V. Scenes ii.-iii. Day 9. Act. V. Scenes iv.-viit.
INTRODUCTION 65
Thus the time over which the events of the play extend is
about two months. The intervals, however, in the computation
given above, seem to be much too short. Macbeth, V, iii. 21, says:
My way of life
Is fall’n into the sear, the yellow leaf,
implying that he has already reached old age. At the opening
of the play he appears to be in the prime of life, and though he
may have aged rapidly, yet we ought to regard the events of the
play as extending over some years rather than a few months.
Shakespeare’s wonderful art, however, has made the events
recorded in the play appear to succeed one another with such
rapidity, that we neglect to take into account the intervals which
necessity demands for their ripening.
MACBETH
Bramatis Persone.
Duncan, King of Scotland.
Matcoum, :
DoNALBAIN, t His Sons.
Macsetu, \ Generals of the
Banquo, King’s Army.
Macpvurr,
LENNOX,
Ross, Noblemen of Scot-
MENTEITH, land.
ANGUS,
CAITHNESS,
FLEANCE, Son to Banquo.
Srwarp, Harl of Northumberland,
General of the English Forces.
YoOuNG SIwarD, his Son.
Srnyton, an Officer attending on
Macbeth.
ScENE:
ACT I
Scene I. A Desert Place.
Enter three Witches.
1 Witch. When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
2 Witch. When the hurlyburly’s' done,
When the battle’s lost and won.
3 Witch. That will be ere the set of sun.
Thunder and lightning.
1 Witch. Where the place?
2 Witch.
Upon the heath.
Boy, son to Macduff.
An English Doctor.
A Scotch Doctor.
A Soldier.
A Porter.
An Old Man.
Lapy MAcBeETH.
Lapy MacpvurFr.
Gentlewoman attending on Lady
Macbeth.
Hecats, three Witches.
Lords, Gentlemen, Officers, Sol-
diers, Murderers, Attendants,
and Messengers.
The Ghost of Banquo and other
Apparitions.
Scotland; in the end of the Fourth Act, in England.
os
‘noise and con-
fusion of
battle
3 Witch. There to meet with Macbeth.
68 MACBETH
1 Witch. I come, Graymalkini'
All. Paddock? calls:— Anon!—#:
All. Fair is foul, and foul is fair :*
Hover‘ through the fog and filthy air.
10
[Exeunt.
Scene II. A Camp near Forres.
Alarum’ within. Enter King DuNcaAN, MALcoLm,
DonaLBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting
a bleeding Sergeant.
Dun. What bloody man is that? He can report.
As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt
The newest state.®
Mal. This is the sergeant
Who, like a good and hardy’ soldier fought
’Gainst my captivity. Hazl,’ brave friend!
Say to the king the knowledge of the brozl?
As thou didst leave it.
Ser. Doubtful it stood;
As two spent'® swimmers that do cling together
And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald—
Worthy to be a rebel, for to that? 10
The multiplying villanies of nature
Do swarm upon him}—from the Western Isles13
Of kerns'4 and gallowglasses® is supplied;
But all’s too weak:
For brave Macbeth—well he deserves that name—
Disdaining fortune,’ with his brandish’d steel,
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour’s minion” carved out his passage
Till hes faced the slave;
Which ne’er shook hands,t nor bade farewell to
hom 20
Till he unseam’d him from the nave?° to the chaps,
And fix’d his head upon our battlements.
[Act I
lthe name of
a cat
*the name of a
toad
3mmediately
4let us hover
5a call to arms
5|.e. he can give
the latest
news
Tyaliant
8a dissyllable
*hattle
Werhausted
‘render their
skill useless
that end; i. e.
to be a rebel
13}.e. of Scot-
land
M]ight-armed
troops
heavy-armed
troops ~
disregarding
the rebel’s
apparent
success
“favorite,
darling
18M acheth
19M acdon-
wald
navel
*What is fair to others is foul to us, and what we find fair is foul in the
eyes of others.
I.e. We love what others hate and hate what they love.
tNature has crowded within him innumerable qualities of wickedness.
tWho did not shake hands with death, i.e. did not die.
Scene IT} MACBETH
69
Dun. O valiant cousin!+ worthy gentleman!
Ser. As whence the sun ’gins his reflection
Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break,
So from that spring whence comfort seem’d to come
Discomfort swells.* Mark, King of Scotland, mark:
No sooner justice had, with valour arm’d,
Compell’d these skipping kerns to trust their heels,
But the Norweyan lord,? surveying vantage, § 30
With furbish’d+ arms and new supplies of men,
Began a fresh assault.
Dun. Dismay’d not this
a captains, Macbeth and Banquo?
er.
As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion.
If I say sooth,’ I must report they were
As cannons® overcharged with double cracks;’ so they
Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe:
Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds,
Or memorize® another Golgotha,
I cannot tell—
But I am faint; my gashes cry for help.
Dun. So well thy words become thee’as thy
wounds;
They smack of honour both. Go, get him surgeons.
[Exit Sergeant, attended.
Enter Ross.
Yes;
40
Who comes here?
Mal.
Len.
The worthy thane? of Ross.
What a haste looks through his eyes! So
should he look
That seems to speak things strange.
Ross. God save the king!
Dun. Whence camest thou, worthy thane?
Ross. From Fife, great king;
Where the Norweyan banners flout" the sky
And fan our people cold.f Norway’? himself
lsee note J. il.
23, p. 151
21.e Sweno. See
Iu. 58
3seeing an
opening
‘burnished,
unstained
by use
Struth
San anachro-
nism
Tfilled with
charges
powerful
enough to
give a
doubly loud
report
8make the
place mem-
orable as
%q title, almost
equal to that
of Earl
Wseems about
Umock
ihe King of
Norway
*As terrible storms often
originate in the east, the quarter from which
-the (comforting) sun begins his course, so now trouble arises in that very
quarter to which Macbeth’s victory had seemed to bring comfort.
+Where the Norwegian banners flap gaily in the wind and serve only
to cool the victors.
70 MACBETH
[Aor TI
With terrible numbers, 50
Assisted by that most disloyal traitor
The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal‘ conflict;
Till that Bellona’s? bridegroom, lapp’d in proof,?
Confronted him with self-comparisons,
Point against point rebellious, arm ’gainst arm,
Curbing his lavish spirit:* and, to conclude,
The victory fell on us.
Dun. Great happiness!
Ross. That+ now
Sweno, the Norway’s king, craves composition;*
Nor would we deign him burial of his men
Till he disburséd, at Saint Colme’s Inch* 60 |
Ten thousand dollars’? to our general use.
Dun. No more that thane of Cawdor shall de-
ceive
Our bosom interest:’ go pronounce his present?
death,
And with his former title greet Macbeth.
Ross. I’ll see it done.
Dun, What he hath lost, noble Macbeth hath
won. [Exeunt.
Scene III. A Heath, near Forres.
Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
1 Witch. Where hast thou been, sister?
2 Witch, Killing swine.
8 Witch. Sister, where thou?
1 Witch. A sailor’s wife had chestnuts in her
lap,
And munch’d, and munch’d, and munch’d.
‘Give me,’ quoth TI:
‘Aroint thee,” witch!’ the rump-fed ronyon™
cries.
Her husband’s to Aleppo gone, master o’ the
Tiger:
lan ill-boding
2?Roman
goddess of
war
3clad in proof
armor
4so that
®humbly begs
terms of
settlement
or peace
®Inchcolm, an
island off
the coast of
Fife
Tan anachro-
nism
8the interests
we have
most at
heart
*tmmediate
stand off
pampered,
scurvy
creature
the name of a
vessel
*Encountered him in a hand-to-hand trial of strength, his own sword
against the rebel’s sword, checking his insolent spirit.
ScENE JWI) MACBETH
71
But in a sieve I’ll thither sail,
And, like’ a rat without a tail,
I?ll do, I’ll do, and I’ll do. 10
2 Witch. I’ll give thee a wind.
1 Witch. Thou’rt kind.
3 Witch. And I another.
1 Witch. I myself have all the other;
And the very ports they blow,
All the quarters that they know
I’ the shipman’s card,?
I will drain him dry as hay:*
Sleep shall neither night nor day
Hang upon his pent-house lid;! 20
He shall live a man forbid:*
Weary se’nnights, nine times nine®
Shall he dwindle, peak, and pine.’
Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
Look what I have.
2 Witch. Show me, show me.
1 Witch. Here I have a pilot’s thumb,
Wreck’d as homeward he did come.
[Drum within.
3 Witch. A drum, a drum! 30
Macbeth doth come.
All. The weird’ sisters, hand in hand,
Posters of? the sea and land,
Thus do go about, about:
Thrice to thine, and thrice to mine,
And thrice again, to make up nine.
Peace! the charm’s wound up.
Enter MacBetH and BANQuo.
Macb. So foul and fair a day I have not seen.
Ban. How far is’t call’d to Forres? What
are these,
So wither’d, and so wild in their attire, 40
That look not like the inhabitants 0’ the earth,
lin the form of
en Ul “do
for’’ the
ship, gnaw
a hole in tt
Scompass card
4lids that over-
hang the eye
(like the
roof of a
pent-house)
5under a ban or
curse
6 7 and 3, and 9
as the
square of 3,
are mystic
numbers
7grow lean and
waste away
8unearthly or
fateful. See
Glossary
‘rapid travel-
ers over
pee ee ————
*T.¢. drain the blood from his body till he becomes all flesh and bone.
W2 MACBETH
Live you? or are you aught
You seem to under-
And yet are on ’t?
That man may question?
stand me,
By each at once her choppy finger laying
Upon her skinny lips: you should be women,
And yet your beards? forbid me to interpret
That you are so.
Macb.
you?
1 Witch. All hail, Macbeth!
thane of Glamis!
2 Witch. All hail, Macbeth!
thane of Cawdor!
8 Witch. All hail, Macbeth!
Speak, if you can: what are
hail to thee,
hail to thee,
that shalt be
king hereafter! 50
Ban. Good sir, why do you start, and seem
to fear
Things that do sound so fair? I’ the name of
truth,
Are ye fantastical,’ or that indeed
Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner
You greet with present grace, and great prediction
Of noble having and of royal hope,*
That he seems rapt* withal: to me you speak
not.
Tf you can look into the seeds of time,
And say which grain will grow and which will
not,
Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear 60
Your favours nor your hate.’
1 Witch. Hail!
2 Witch. Hail!
8 Witch. Hail!
1 Witch. Lesser than Macbeth, and greater.
2 Witch. Not so happy, yet much happier.
3 Witch. Thou shalt get kings, though thou
be none:
pAcnFE
Ichapped
2see Intro-
duction, p. 35
‘creatures of
the fancy
or tmagina-
tion
‘appear to be
®so that
Scarried beyond
himself,
transported
"beg your
favors nor
fear your
hate
*You greet by naming the honorable title which he already bears (‘present
grace’’) and by predicting for him a more noble possession (“great prediction
of noble having”) and even presenting a prospect which may lead him to
hope for royalty (“prediction of royal hope’).
Scene IIT] MACBETH
So, all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!
1 Witch. Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!
Macb. Stay,' you imperfect speakers,? tell me
more: 70
By Sinel’s* death I know I am thane of Glamis;
But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives,
A prosperous gentleman ;* and to be king
Stands not within the prospect of belief,
No‘ more than to be Cawdor. Say, from whence
You owe® this strange intelligence? or why
Upon this blasted’ heath you stop our way
With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge
you [Witches vanish.
Ban. The earth hath bubbles, as the water has,
And these are of them. Whither are they
vanish ’d? 80
Macb. Into the air, and what seem’d corporal’
melted
As breath into the wind.
stay ’d!
Were such things here as we do speak
about?
Or have we eaten on the insane root®
That takes the reason prisoner?®
Macb. Your children shall be kings.
Ban. You shall be king.
Macb. And thane of Cawdor too, went it not
so?
To the selfsame tune and words.
here?
Would they had
Ban.
Ban. Who’s
Enter Ross and ANGUS.
The king hath happily received, Mac-
beth,
The news of thy success; and when he reads 90
Thy personal venture” in the rebel’s fight,
His wonders and his praises do contend
Ross.
73
Inot so fast
2who speak
only a part
of what you
mean
3Macbeth’s
father
fany
5pOSsess
Swithered,
blighted
“corporeal,
substantial
Sroot causing
madness,
henbane or
hemlock
%renders the
reason Use-
less or
inoperative
Wihe venture of
thy person
*See Note, I. iii. 72, p. 152.
74 MACBETH
[Acr I
Which should be thine or his: silenced with that,*
In viewing o’er the rest of the selfsame day,
He finds thee in the stout! Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make,?
Strange images of death. As thick as hail
Came post with post; and every one did bear
Thy praises’ in his kingdom’s great defence,
And pour’d them down before him.
Ang. We are sent
To give thee from our royal master thanks;
Only to herald thee into his sight,
Not pay thee.
Ross. And, for an earnest of a greater honour,
He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor:
In which addition,’ hail, most worthy thane!
For it is thine.
Ban. What, can the devil speak true?
Macb. The thane of Cawdor lives: why do
you dress me
In borrow’d robes? .
Ang. Who’ was the thane lives yet;
But under heavy judgment bears that life
Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was
combined’
With those of Norway,? or did line” the rebel
With hidden help and vantage, or that with both"
He labour’d in his country’s wreck, I know
not;
But treasons capital, confess’d and proved,
Have overthrown him.
Macb. [Aside.] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor:
The greatest is behind. [Zo Ross and Aneus.]
Thanks for your pains.
[To Banquo.] Do you not hope your children
shall be kings,
100
110
hold and reso-
lute
"explained in
the next line
““strange
images,’ ete.
3praises of thy
deeds
‘assurance,
pledge
5title
She who
Tstill
Sentered into a
league
%the Nor-
wegians
strengthen
(internally)
Nie. both kinds
of help
toward
Bruin
*The amazement with which he hears of thy great deeds (‘‘his wonders”)
and the admiration which calls for expression (“his praises”) dispute posses-
sion within him (‘‘do contend which should be thine or his’’), and as the one
feeling neutralizes the other, he is consequently silent.
Scene IIT] MACBETH 75
arene eee eee
When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to
me 120
Promised no less to them?
Ban. That, trusted home, ‘to the utmost
Might yet enkindle you unto the crown,*
Besides the thane of Cawdor. But ’tis strange:
And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,
The instruments of darkness? tell us truths, *the agents of
Win us with honest trifles, to betray ’s the devil
In deepest consequence. ft
Cousins,’ a word, I pray you. saddressed to
Macb. [A side.] Two truths are told, Hee ce
As happy prologues to the swelling act
Of the imperial theme.—{Aloud.| I thank you,
gentlemen.— 130
- [Aside.] This supernatural soliciting! “inciting
Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill,
Why hath it given me earnest® of success, ps ae
Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: svempl ai
If good, why do I yield to that suggestion® ithe dreadful
Whose horrid image’ doth unfix my hair, thought of
And make my seated’ heart knock at my ribs, ae liek
Against the use of nature? Present fears ees
Are less than horrible imaginings :t nary possi-
My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical,® , an
Manhood
Shakes so my single state of man, that function 141
Is smother’d in surmise, and nothing is
But what is not.{
Ban. Look, how our partner ’s rapt." “engrossed in
Macb. [Aside.| If chance will have me king > thought
may possibly
why, chance may’? crown me, |
*If you carry to its natural conclusion your trust in the witches, there
may yet be kindled within you a hope of obtaining the crown.
+Obtain our confidence by dealing honestly with us in matters of no
importance in order to deceive us in matters of the highest importance.
tActual dangers are less terrifying than the terrors which the imagination
ea cr f acti d faculty of
The meaning appears to be: ‘‘My power of action and 1a
cent Gaeeton Re ieee by the crowd of horrible fancies that
besets my mind (is smother’d in surmise), so that facts have no reality for me
who am possessed only by imaginary possibilities. Y
76 MACBETH
[Acr I
OO nn
Without my stir.
Ban. New honours come upon him,
Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould?
But with the aid of use.
Macb. [A side. Come what come may,
Time and the hour runs* through the roughest
day,
Ban. Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your
leisure.
Macb. Give me your favour: my dull brain
was wrought® 150
With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your
pains
Are register’d where® every day I turn
The leaf to read them. Let us toward? the king.
Think upon what hath chanced, and at more
time,
The interim having ® weigh’d it, let us speak
Our free hearts? each to other.
Ban. Very gladly.
Macb. Till then, enough—Come, friends.
[Exeunt.
Scene IV. Forres. A Room in the Palace.
Flourish. Enter Duncan, Matcotm, DoNALBAIN,
LENNOX, and Attendants.
Dun. Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not
Those in commission® yet return’d?
Mal. My liege,
They are not yet come back. But I have spoke"
With one that saw him die, who did report
That very frankly he confess’d his treasons,
Implored your highness’ pardon, and seé forth
A deep repentance: nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it; he died
As one that had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing't he owed 10
As ’twere a careless'® trifle.
Dun. There’s no art
lany action on
my -part
2do not fit
3run
‘indulgence,
pardon
> per plexed
Sie. in my
memory
7sc. go
Safter having
meanwhile
*hearts freely
those charged
with the
duty of car-
rying it out.
Gi. Laaisés
Uspoken
showed
Bas one who
had studied,
how to die
Mie. his life
lnossessed
l6worthless
Scene IV] MACBETH
To find the mind’s construction’ in the face:
He was a gentleman on whom I built
An absolute trust.
Enter Macsetu, BANQuo, Ross, and ANnaus.
O worthiest cousin!
The sin of my ingratitude even now
Was heavy on me: thou art so far before,
That swiftest wing of recompense is slow
To overtake thee. Would thcu hadst less de-
served,
That the proportion both of thanks and payment
Might have been mine!* only I have left to say 20
More is thy due than more than all? can pay.
Mach. ‘The service and the loyalty I owe,
In doing it, pays itself. Your highness’ part
Is to receive our duties: and our duties
Are to your throne and state children and servants;
Which do but what they should, by doing every-
thing
Safe toward your? love and honour.
Dun. Welcome hither:
I have begun to plant thee,f and will labour
To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo,
That hast no less deserved, nor® must be known 30
No® less to have done so, let me infold thee
And hold thee to my heart.
Ban. There if I grow,
The harvest is your own.
Dun. My plenteous joys,
Wanton in fulness® seek to hide themselves
In drops of sorrow.? Sons, kinsmen, thanes,
And you whose places are the nearest,’ know,
We will establish our estate’ upon
Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter
Mid
linterpret the
mind
i.e. all that I
can do
3that is sure to
show you
4raise thee to
the highest
possible de-
gree of
greatness
‘double nega-
tive
Sbubbling
“tears
8rank nearest
to ourselves
succession
to the throne
over
Ithe
*That it might have been in my power to thank and reward thee in due
proportion (to thy deserts).
tA metaphor, equivalent to “I have sown the seeds of thy greatness”
(by granting thee the title of Thane of Cawdor).
in the next line and in 32, 33.
The metaphor is continued
78 MACBETH
The Prince of Cumberland: which honour must
Not unaccompanied invest! him only, 40
But signs of nobleness,? like stars, shall shine
On all deservers. From hence to Inverness,
And bind us further to you.
Macb. The rest is labour, which is not used
for you:*
J’ll be myself the harbinger? and make joyful
The hearing of my wife with your approach;
So, humbly take my leave.
Dun. My worthy Cawdor!
Macb. [Aside.] The Prince of Cumberland!
That is a step
On which I must fall down, or else o’erleap,
For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; 50
Let not light see my black and deep desires:
The eye wink at* the hand; yet let that be
Which the eye fears, when it is done, tosee. [Evzit.
Dun. True, worthy Banquo; he is full so
valiant,
And in his commendations I am fed;
It is a banquet to me. Let ’s after him,
Whose care® is gone before to bid us welcome:
It?isapeerless kinsman. [Flourish. Exeunt.
ScENE V. Inverness. Macsetnu’s Castle.
Enter Lapy Macsetu reading a letter.
Lady M. ‘They met me in the day of suc-
cess; and I have learned by the perfectest re-
port,’ they have more in them than mortal?
knowledge. When I burned in desire to question
them further, they made themselves air, into
which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in
the wonder of it, came missives® from the king,
who all-hailed me ‘Thane of Cawdor;’ by which
title, before, these weird sisters saluted me, and
referred me to the coming on of time, with ‘Hail, 10
[Act I
lendow
"distinguishing
marks of
rank
2forerunner
‘with tidings of
‘let the eye
seem not to
see
Swho, in his
care (for my
__ welfare)
The
Stestimony
%human
messengers
“carried my
mind into
the future
*Repose is weariness to me when it is not devoted to your service.
Scene V] MACBETH
————————
king that shalt be!’ This have I thought good
to deliver thee, my dearest partner of greatness,
that thou mightest not lose the dues of rejoic-
ing! by being ignorant of what greatness is
Beoyeieed thee. Lay it to thy heart, and fare-
well.’
Glamis thou art, and Cawdor, and shalt be?
What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy
nature;
It is too full 0’ the milk of human kindness?
To catch the nearest way. Thou wouldst be
great; 20
Art not without ambition: but without
The illness‘ should attend it: what thou wouldst
highly,
That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false
And yet wouldst wrongly win; thou’ldst have,
great Glamis,
That which cries ‘Thus thou must do, if thou
haye its’ *
And that which rather thou dost fear to do
Than wishest should be wndone.’ Hie thee’
hither,
That I may pour my spirits in thine ear;
And chastise with the valour of my tongue
All that impedes thee from the golden round,7{ 30
Which fate and metaphysical’ aid doth seem
To have thee crown’d withal.®
Enter a Messenger.
What is your tidings?
Att. The king comes here to-night.
Lady M. Thou’rt mad to say it:
Is not thy master with him? who, were ’t so,
Would have inform’d for” preparation.
ie)
lright to share
in my joy
2mark the note
of deter-
mination
3mildness,
gentleness
‘disposition to
wickedness
which
5not done
Shasten
Tcrown
8swpernatural
97s seen to have
crowned
thee with
for the pur-
pose of
*In short:
“The only way to obtain what thou wishest to possess, (the
crown) is by murdering Duncan; but whilst thou wishest the end, thou dost
fear to use those means by which alone that end could be attained.”
tI.e. by brave words of encouragement drive away all the scruples which
stand in the way of your obtaining the crown.
80 MACBETH
[Acer ET
Att. So please you, it is true: our thane is
coming:
One of my fellows had the speed of? him,
Who, almost dead for? breath, had scarcely more
Than would make up his message.
Lady M. Give him tending;+
He brings great news. [Exit Messenger.|
The raven® himself is hoarse 40
That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan
Under my battlements. Come, you spirits
That tend on mortal theughts, unsex me here,
And fill me, from the crown to the toe, top-full
Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood;
Stop up the access and passage to remorse,®
That no compunctious visitings of nature
Shake my fell7 purpose, nor keep peace between
The effect and it!* Come to my woman’s
breasts,
And take my milk for’ gall, you murdering
ministers ,®
Wherever in your sightless substances”
You wait on nature’s mischief!* Come, thick
night,
And pall thee in the dunnest® smoke of hell,
That my keen knife see not the wound it makes,
Nor heaven*® peep through the blanket“ of the
dark
To cry, “‘Hold, hold!”
Enter MACBETH.
Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!
Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter!
Thy letters have transported me beyond
This ignorant present,t and I feel now
lcompanions
start of
3for want of
‘attend to him
Sie. the mes-
senger
Spity
Thorrible
Schange into
Sministers of
murder
invisible forms
Uthe destruc-
tion of life;
“nature” =
human life
put on a cloak
of the dark-
est
13light
i4j.e. the dark
“pall” of te
53
*Let no tender feeling gain entrance to or even approach my heart, lest
my hideous purpose be shaken by the natural pangs of conscience, and its
realization be thereby prevented. ‘‘ Keep peace,” i.e. as if pity (‘‘remorse’’)
were to cry “‘hold!”’ or “‘stop!”” Cf. line 56.
tT.e have enabled me to see into the future. The ‘‘present”’ is said to
be ‘ignorant,’ because it sees not the future.
81
Scent VI] MACBETH
The future in the instant.
Macb. My dearest love, 60
Duncan comes here to-night.
Lady M. And when goes hence?
Macb. ‘To-morrow, as he purposes.
Lady M. O, never
Shall sun that morrow see!
Your face, my thane, is as a book where men
May read strange matters. T'o beguile the time,
Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye,
Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent
flower,
But be the serpent under ’t. He? that ’s coming
Must be provided for:* and you shall put
This night’s great business into my dispatch; 70
Which shall to all our nights and days to come
Give solely sovereign sway® and masterdom.
Mach. We will speak further.
Lady M. Only look up clear;
To alter favour® ever is to fear.”
Leave all the rest to me. [Exeunt.
Scene VI. The same. Before the Castle.
Hautboys* and torches. Enter Duncan, MALCOLM,
DonaLBAIN, Banquo, Lennox, MAcpUvrFr,
Ross, Anaus, and Attendants.
Dun. This castle hath a pleasant seat;? the
air
Nimbly” and sweetly recommends itself
Unto our gentle senses.”
Ban. This guest of summer,
The temple-haunting martlet,!' does approve”
By his loved mansionry* that the heaven’s
breath
lto deceive the
world look
as the world
looks
21.e. Duncan
3murdered
4management
5to us alone im-
perial
power
Schange coun-
tenance
Tshow fear
8hautboy (or
oboe)is a
musical
wind in-
strument
like a flute
9situation
Wbhriskly
lg kind of
swallow
prove, attest
making this a
favorite
place of
abode; man-
sionry =
abode
Minvitingly
lbthere 1s No
Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, a lode
Buttress, nor coign of vantage,'* but this bird sine @ cor-
*‘Our senses are soothed by the brisk, sweet air.’”’—Clarendon Press
Edition.
82 MACBETH {Act I
Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle:' lhanging ae
Where they most breed and haunt, I have ob- aes €
served funni
The air is delicate.
Enter Lavy MAcBETH.
Dun. See, see, our honour’d hostess! 10 :
The love that follows us sometime ts our trouble,* - bese ‘a
Which still we thank as love. Herein? I teach ee
you example
How you shall bid God "2/d+ us for your pains ‘for “yield”
And thank us for your trouble. pees an
Lady M. All our service erit
In every point twice done, and then done double, ai ,
Were poor and single business to contend °a tay ee
Against’ ae honours deep and broad where- compared
wi wi
Your majesty loads our house: for those of old, ®recent honors
And the late dignities* heap’d up to them, bese i.e.
We rest your hermits.7 pray fora
Dun. Where’s the thane of Cawdor? 20. 8pursued him
We coursed him? at the heels, and had a purpose ,__ hotly
To be his purveyor:? but he rides well; i vo
And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp nae Glosaaig
him helped
To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,
We are your guest to-night.
Lady M. Your servants ever
Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in
compt,! “accountable
To make their audit” at your highness’ pleasure, furnish a
Still to return your own. reckoning
Dun. Give me your hand;
Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly,
And shall continue our graces towards him. 30 | “he ao tae
By your leave, hostess. {[ Exeunt. h ag ee
*The meaning of this and the following lines appears to be: ‘‘Your love
for us gives us pain on account of its insistence; nevertheless we thank it
because it is love. So, my example will teach you to bid God reward us for
the trouble we give you (‘‘your pains’’) and to thank us for causing you that
trouble (because the fact of our doing so is a sign of our love for you).”
ScENE Wage] MACBETH
Scene VII.
Hautboys and torches. Enter, and pass over the
stage, a Sewer,! and Divers Servants with
dishes and service. Then enter MacBETH.
Macb. If it were done? when ’tis done,%* then
’*twere well
It were done quickly: if the assassination
Could trammel up* the consequence, and catch
With his surceuse® success; that but this blow®
Might be the be-all and the end-all here,
Bui here, upon this bank and shoal of time,t
We’id jump’ the life to come. But in these
cases
We still have judgment here; that? we but teach
Bloody instructions,? which being taught return
To plague the inventor: this even-handed
justice 10
Commends the ingredients® of our poison’d
chalice
To our own lips. He’s here in double trust;{
First, as I am his kinsman and his subject,
Strong both” against the deed; then, as his host,
Who should against his murderer shut the door,
Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Dun-
can
Hath borne his faculties so meek,* hath been
So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels trumpet-tongued against
The deep damnation" of his taking off; 20
And pity, like a naked new-born babe,
Striding the blast, or heaven’s cherubim, horsed
Upon the sightless couriers" of the air,
Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye,
That'® tears shall drown the wind. I have no
spur
Macsetu’s Castle.
83
\chief servant.
See Glossary
*finished with
Sexecuted, per-
formed
‘arrest, or en-
tangle, with-
inits net.
5Duncan’s
death
Sso that this
single act
(of assas-
sination)
Trisk, take our
chance of
8so that
Show to com-
mit murder
Wpresents the
contents
cup
two strong
reasons
Berercised his
powers so
meekly
14¢rreproachable
literrible sin
lbriding upon
the tempest
17 invisible
winds
8s0 that
*See p. 177 on which this passage is paraphrased.
+A metaphor, in which death is regarded as a strip of land separating
two oceans; 7.e. separating this present life from the life to come.
tI.e. 1am doubly bound in honor to care for his safety under my roof.
84. MACBETH
[Act I
To prod the sides of my intent, but only
Vaulting ambition, which o’erleaps itself,
And falls on the other. ?
Enter Lapy MacBETu.
How now? what news?
Lady M. Hehasalmostsupp’d. Why have
you left the chamber?
- Macb. Hath he ask’d for me?
Lady M. Know you not he has? 30
Macb. We will proceed no further in this
business:
He hath honour’d me of late; and I have bought?
Golden opinions from all sorts of people,
Which would* be worn now in their newest gloss,
Not cast aside so soon.
Lady M. Was the hope drunk
Wherein you dress’d yourself? hath it slept since?
And wakes it now, to look so green and pale
At what it did so freely? From this time,
Such IJ account thy love. Art thou afeard
To be the same in thine own act and valour 40
As thou art® in desire? Wouldst thou have that
Which thou esteem’st the ornament of life,
And live a coward in thine own esteem,
Letting ‘‘I dare not” wait upon ‘‘I would,’’*
Like the poor catt i’ the adage?s
Macb. Prithee, peace:
I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more, is none.
Lady M. What beast was ’t then,
‘That made you break? this enterprise to me?
When you durst do it, then you were a man;
And, to be” more than what you were, you would 50
Beso much more the man. Nor time nor place
Did then adhere,“ and yet you would make both:2
They have made themselves, and that their fit-
ness now
Does unmake you.
*Letting your fears accompany your desires.
lpur pose
*sc. side. Note
the two
metaphors
from spur-
ring a horse
and vault-
ting over the
saddle
3acquired
4should
i.e. with fear
Sto let your
deed and
bravery cor-
respond
with what
you desire
71.e. the crown
Sproverb
3disciose
in being
Uwere then
favorable
2i.e. favorable
their very
+The cat would eat fish and would not wet her feet.”—Hnrywoop’s
Proverbs.
Scene VII] MACBETH
85
Macb. If we should fail?
Lady M. We fail!
But screw your courage to the sticking-place,!
And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep—
Whereto the rather shall his day’s hard journey
Soundly invite him—his two chamberlains?
Will I with wine and wassazl so convince,!
That memory, the warder® of the brain,
Shall be a fume,® and the receipt’ of reason
A limbec’ only: when in swinish sleep
Their drenchéd natures lie as in a death,
What cannot you and I perform upon
The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon
His spongy? officers, who shall bear the guilt
Of our great quell?
Macb. Will it not be received,"
When we have mark’d with blood those sleepy
two
Of his own chamber, and used their very daggers,
That they have done ’t?
Lady M. Who dares receive it other,
As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar
Upon his death?
Macb. T am settled, and bend up
Each corporal agent to this terrible feat.
Away, and mock the time's with fairest show:
False face must hide what the false heart doth
know. [Exeunt.
Ipoint at which
a will re-
main un-
moved
2officers of his
chamber
scarousing
4over power
5quardian
Sbecome fogged
“receptacle
8reservoir. See
Glossary
i.e. saturated
with drink
murder. See
Glossary
“generally
thought
strain every
organ of my
body
3delude the
world. Cf.
Ile we
86 MACBETH
ACT II.
Scene I. Inverness. ~ Court of Macsetnu’s Castle.
Enter Banquo, and FLEANCE bearing a torch.
Ban.
Fle.
How goes the night, boy?
The moon is down; I have not heard the
clock.
Ban. And she goes down at twelve.
Fle. I take ’t, ’tis later, sir.
Ban. Hold, take my sword. There’s hus-
bandry! in heaven;
Their candles are all out. Take thee that? too.
A heavy summons lies like lead upon me,
And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers,
Restrain in me the curséd thoughts that nature
Gives way to in repose!—Give me my sword.
Who’s there? 10
Enter Macseru, and a Servant with a torch.
Macb. A friend.
Ban. What, sir, not yet at rest?
a-bed:
He hath been in unusual pleasure, and
Sent forth great largess to your offices. 4
This diamond he greets your wife withal,
By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up>
In measureless content.
Macb. Being unprepared,
Our will became the servant to defect ;*
Which else should free have wrought.*
Ban. All’s well.
I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters:
To you they have show’d some truth.
The king ’s
20
LACrahE
leconomy
2a shield or a
helmet
3presents
‘servants
Shas retired. Sc.
is
Sotherwise
would have
had free
play
*Our good will has been limited by, or subject to, our deficiencies,
ScENE I] | MACBETH 87
Macb. J think not of them:
Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve,
We would spend it in some words upon that
business,
If you would grant the time.
Ban. At your kind’st leisure.
Macb. If you shall cleave to my consent, when
*tis,} lqgbide by my
It shall make honour for you. counsel,
Ban. So? I lose none when the
In seeking to augment it, but still keep siionded thai
My bosom franchised and allegiance clear,*
I shall be counsell’d.
Macb. Good repose, the while!
Ban. Thanks, sir: the like to you. 30
| Exeunt BANQuo and FLEANCE.
Macb. Go, bid thy mistress, when my drink
is ready,
She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed.
[| Exit Servant.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me
clutch thee:
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight?3 or art thou but 3able to be felt
A dagger of the mind, a false creation, as well as
Proceeding from the heat-oppresséd brain? Wage:
I see thee yet, in form as palpable: AO | ‘substantial
As this which now I draw.
Thou marshall ’st me the way that I was going;
And such an instrument I was to use.
Mine eyes are made the fools* 0’ the other senses, Slaughing stock
Or else worth all the rest:t I see thee still;
And on thy blade and dudgeon® gouts’ of blood,
Which was not so before. There’s no such thing:
It is the bloody business which informs
ee
*My conscience free, and my loyalty (to my sovereign) irreproachable.
tI.e. My eyes tell me right, and my other senses (especially my sense of
touch), are wrong.
Shandle —
‘drops
88 MACBETH [Acrsrr
Thus to mine eyes. Now o’er the one half-world
Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse 50
The curtained sleep; witchcraft celebrates ‘tempt to evil
Pale Hecate’s offerings; and wither’d? murder, the _ sleeper
: : on his cur-
Alarum’d by his sentinel, the wolf, tained Bag
Whose howl’s his watch,‘ thus with his stealthy *spectre-like
pace, ‘awakened
With Tarquin’s® ravishing strides, towards his ‘tells him the
design progres of
th ight
Moves Tape ghost. Thou sure and firm-set Rage Not IL
earth, 1.55
Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for
fear
Thy very stones* prate of my whereabout, Sef. St. Luke
And take the present horror from the time, xIx. 40
Which now suits with it.* Whiles I threat, he
lives: 60
Words to the heat of deeds too cool breath gives.
[A bell rings.
I go, and it is done: the bell invites me.
Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell’ ‘the sound of a
That summons thee to heaven or to hell. funeral bell
[Exit.
ScENE II. The Same.
Enter Lavy MacBeETH.
Lady M. That which hath made them
drunk hath made me bold;
What hath quench’d* them hath given me fire. 8stupefied
Hark! Peace!
It was the owl that shriek’d, the fatal bellman,
Which gives the stern’st good-night. He is
about it:
The doors are open, and the surfeited grooms
Do mock their charge with snores: I have %evening
drugg’d their possets.? drinks
That death and nature do contend about them, so that
*And cause me to postpone the horrible deed which suits so well this time
of silence.
Scene IT] MACBETH
89
Whether they live or die.
Mach. [Within] Who’s there?! what, ho!
Lady M. Alack! I am afraid they have
awaked,
And us not done. The attempt and not the
eed
Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers
ready;
He could not miss’em. Had he not resembled
My father as he slept, I had done ’t. My hus-
band!
ENTER MacBetu.
Macb. I have done the deed. Didst thou
not hear a noise?
Lady M. I heard the owl scream and the
crickets cry.
Did not you speak?
Macb. When?
Lady. M. Now.
Macb. As I descended?
Lady M. Ay.
Macb. Hark!
Who lies i’ the second chamber?
Lady M. Donalbain.
Macb. This is a sorry sight. [Looking on his
hands.
Lady M. A foolish thought, to say a sorry
sight.
Macb. There ’s one? did laugh in ’s sleep,
and one cried, “‘ Murder!”
Thats they did wake each other: I stood and
heard them;
But they did say their prayers, and address d
them*
Again to sleep.
Lady M. There are two lodged together.
Macb. One cried, “God bless us!” and,
“Amen,” the other;
As they had seen me with these hangman’s
hands:
10
20
1Machbeth hears
the sound
referred to
an lines 2
and 8
2one who
3s0 that
‘composed
themselves
Sas uf
90 MACBETH
,
Listening their fear, I could not say “Amen,’
When they did say ‘“‘God bless us!”
Lady M. Consider it not so deeply.
Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce
“Amen?” 30
I had most need of blessing, and ‘“‘ Amen”
Stuck in my throat.
Lady M. These deeds must not be thought
After these ways; so, it will make us mad.
Macb. Methought I heard a voice ery, “Sleep
no more!
Macbeth does murder sleep,’ the innocent sleep,
Sleep, that knits up* the ravell’d sleave' of care,
The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second
course,?
Chief nourisher in life’s feast,—
Lady M. What do you mean?
Macb. Still it cried, “Sleep no more!”’ to all
the house: 40
“Glamis hath murder’d sleep, and therefore
} Cawdor
Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no
more.”
Lady M. Who wasit that thus cried? Why,
worthy thane,
You do unbend your noble strength, to think
So brainsickly’ of things. Go, get some water,
And wash this filthy witness from your hand.
Why did you bring these daggers from the place?
They must lie there: go carry them, and smear
The sleepy grooms with blood.
Macb. I'll go no more:
I am afraid to think what I have done; 50
Look on ’t again I dare not.
Lady M. Infirm of purpose!
Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead
Are but as pictures; ’tis the eye of childhood
[Act IT
ltangled sleave-
silk
2the second
course in
nature’s
daily ban-
quet
3madly
‘i.e. the stains
of blood
*The cares of the day disorder and entangle the tired mind (ravell’d
sleave or skein of floss silk), which under the infuence of sleep is again rested
and restored to order.
Scene IIT] MACBETH 91
That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed,
I'll gild: the faces of the grooms withal; ‘smear with
For it must seem their guilt. ue mens
5 , ae ark the
[Exit. Knocking within. play on
Macb. Whence is that knocking? words,
How is ’t with me, when every noise appals me? Gud |, and
What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine fa
eyes.
Will all great Neptune’s? ocean wash this blood 2Roman sea-
Clean from my hand? No; this my hand will god
rather 60
The multitudinous seas incarnardine,* 8make red the
Making the green one red.‘ measureless
Re-enter Lapy MacBErTu. Ah oan
red color
Lady M. My handsare of your colour: butI
shame
To wear a heart so white. [Knocking within.]
I hear a knocking
At the south entry; retire we to our chamber: Slet us retire
A little water clears us of this deed:
How easy is it, then! Your constancy
Hath left you unattended.® [Knocking within.| ‘firmness has
Hark! more knocking. deserted you
Get on your nightgown,’ lest occasion call us ‘dressing-gown
And show us to be watchers. Be not lost8 70 | 8do not lose
So poorly in your thoughts. yourself
Macb. To know my deed, ’twere best not
know myself.* [Knocking within.
Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would
thou couldst! [Exeunt.
Scene III. The Same.
Enter a Porter.
[Knocking within.
Porter. Here’s a knocking, indeed! If a
man were porter of hell-gate, he should have
*In reply to Lady Macbeth’s “Be not lost, ” etc., Macbeth says, in effect:
‘*T would rather lose myself altogether in my thoughts than be brought back
to the consciousness of what I have done.”
92 MACBETH
[Acran
old' turning the key:—{Knocking within.]
knock, knock, knock! Who’s there, i’ the name
of Beelzebub? MHere’safarmer, that hanged
himself on? the expectation of plenty: Come
in time; have napkins? enow about you; here
youll sweat for ’t. [Knocking within.]| Knock,
knock! Who’s there, in the other devil’s name?
Faith, here’s an equivocator,t that could swear
in both the scales against either scale; who com-
mitted treason enough for God’s sake, yet could
not equivocate to heaven:’ O! come in, equivo-
eator. [Knocking within.| Knock, knock,
knock! Who’sthere? Faith, here’s an English
tailor come hither, for stealing out of a French
hose:* Come in, tailor; here you may roast
your goose.? [Knocking within.] Knock,
knock; Never at quiet! What are you? But
this place is too cold for hell. I’ll devil-porters
it no further: I had thought to have let in some
of all professions, that go the primrose? way to
the everlasting bonfire. [Knocking within.]
Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter.
[Opens the gate.
Enter Macpurr and LENNOX.
Macd. Was it so late, friend, ere you went
to bed,
That you do lie so late?
Port. Faith, sir, we were carousing till the
second cock.
Macd. Is thy master stirring?
Enter MacBETH.
Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes.
Len. Good morrow, noble sir.
Macb. Good morrow, both.
Macd. Is the king stirring, worthy thane?
Macb. Not yet.
Macd. He did command me to call timely”
on him;
10
20
30
lan intensive
particle. Cf.
the collo-
quial high
old time
20wing to
shandkerchiefs
‘perhaps =
Jesuit. See
Intro. p. 22
5get to heaven
by equivoca-
tion (du-
plicity)
Sbreeches
Theat your
flatiron
8be the devil’s
porter
%bright,
pleasant
Mcoming at
once!
Nive. about 3
o’clock a.m.
early
Scene IIT] MACBETH
I have almost slipp’d the hour.
Macb. T’il bring you to him.
Macd. I know this is a joyful trouble to you;
But yet ’tis one.
Macb. The labour we delight in physics pain.*
This is the door.
Maced. I’ll make so bold to call,
For ’tis my limited service. Exit.
Len. Goes the king hence to-day?
Macb. He does: he did appoint so.
Len. The night has been wnruly;? where we
lay, 40
Our chimneys were blown down, and, as they
say,
Lamentings heard 7’ the air, strange screams of
death,
And prophesying with accents terrible
Of dire combustiont and confused events
New hatch’d® to the woeful time.t The obscure
bird’
Clamour’d the livelong night: some say, the
earth
Was feverous,? and did shake.
Macb. ’Twas a rough night.
Len. My young remembrance cannot parallel
A fellow to it.
Re-enter MacpDurFrF.
Macd. O horror, horror, horror! Tongue,
nor’ heart 50
Cannof® conceive nor name thee!
Macb., Len. What’s the matter?
Macd. Confusion® now hath made his master-
piece!
Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope”
The Lord’s anointed temple, t and stole! thence
le. a trouble
2appointed
duty
’botsterous
‘conflagration,
social dis-
turbances
5newly born
Sthe owl
‘affected with
fever or an
ague
Sdouble nega-
tive
Idestruction,
ruin. Cf.
III. v. 29.
broken into
| stolen
*T.e. When our labor is pleasant there is init that (viz. the delight) which
counteracts the trouble.
+7.e, A new brood of horrors befitting the dreadful weather.
tThe king is “the Lord’s anointed temple of the living God.”
94 MACBETH [Acr II
The life o’ the building. |
Macb. What is ’t you say? the life?
Len. Mean you his majesty?
Macd. Approach the chamber, and destroy
your sight
With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak:
See, and then speak yourselves.
[Hxeunt MacBEeTH and LENNOX.
Awake, awake!
Ring the alarum-bell. Murder, and treason! 60
Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake!
Shake off this downy! sleep, death’s counterfeit,’ tsoft, placid
And look on death itself! up, up, and see nae
The great doom’s image!? Malcolm! Banquo! | 8a picture of
As from your graves rise up, and walk like the last
sprites, judgment
To countenance this horror! Ring the bell. ‘be in keeping
[Bell rings. with
Enter Lapy Macperu.
Lady M. What’s the business,
That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley® ‘conference
The sleepers of the house? speak, speak!
Macd O gentle lady,
’Tis not for you to hear what I ean speak: 70
The repetition,’ in a woman’s ear, Sto tell it
Would murder as it fell.
Enter BANQuo.
O Banquo, Banquo, |
Our royal master ’s murdered!
Lady M. Woe, alas!
What, in our house?
Ban. Too cruel anywhere.
Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself,
And say, it is not so.
Re-enter Macsetu and LENNOX.
Macb. Had I but died an hour before this
chance,’ Tevent
Scenz IIT] MACBETH 95
I had lived a blesséd time: for, from this instant ‘mportant, —
There’s nothing serious in mortality: weighty; i.e.
All is but toys2 renown and grace zs dead; 80 ee Bi:
4 ara ing worth
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees living for
Is left this vault to brag of. *trifles
Sare. See
Enter Matcotm and Dona.pain. Gramma-
; : tical notes,
Don. What is amiss? p. 168
Macb. You are.’ and do not know ’t: world
‘ie. you are
The spring, the head, tre fountain of your blood aN ee
Is stopp’d; the very source of it is stopp’d.
Macd. Your royal father ’s murdered.
Mal. O, by whom?
Len. Those of his chamber, as it seem’d,
had done ’t:
Their hands and faces were all badged with
blood;
So were their daggers, which unwiped we found
upon their pillows:
They stared,* and were distracted; no man’s life 90 | ‘glared
Was to be trusted with them.
Macb. O, yet I do repent me of my fury,
That I did kill them.
Macd. Wherefore did you so?
Mach. Whocan be wise, amazed,’ temperate Teonfused
and furious,
Loyal and neutral,* ina moment? Noman:
The expedition’ of my violent love 8impetuosity
Outrun the pauser reason. Here lay Duncan,
His silver skin laced with his golden blood, *streaked
And his gash’d stabs” look’d like a breach in “gaping
nature wounds
For ruin’s wasteful entrance:t there, the
murderers, 100
Steep ’d in the colours of their trade, their daggers
Unmannerly breech’d"™ with gore: who could re- “indecently
frain, clothed
*Loyal, as a subject of the king’s; ueutral, as a judge.
+An opening through which death had entered and performed his work
of destruction.
96 MACBETH
That had a heart to love, and in that heart
Courage to make ’s love known?
Lady M. Help me hence, ho!
Macd. Look to the lady.
Mal. [Aside to Don.] Why do we hold our
tongues
That most may claim this argument? for ours?
Don. [Aside to Mau.] What should be
spoken
Here, where our Fate,? hid in an auger-hole,!
May rush, and seize us? Let’s away: our
tears
Are not yet brew’d.* ,
Mal. [Aside to Don.] Nor our strong sorrow 110
Upon the foot of motion.®
Ban. Look to the lady:
[Lapy Macseru 7s carried out.
And when we have our naked frailties® hid,
That suffer in exposure, let us meet,
And question? this most bloody piece of work,
To know it further. Fears and scruples’ shake
us:
In the great hand of God I stand, and thence,
Against the wndivulged pretence? I fight
Of treasonous malice.
Macd. And so do I.
All. So all.
Macd. Let’s briefly put on manly readiness, ®
And meet i’ the hall together.
All. Well contented. 120
[Exeunt all but Matcoitm and DoNALBAIN.
What will you do? Let’s not consort
with them:
To show an unfelt sorrow is an office
Which the false man doeseasy. I’ll to England.
Don. To Ireland, I; our separated fortune
Shall keep us both the safer; where we are,
Mal.
[Acr 32
Ishe faints
"subject, theme
3j.e. death
tambushed tn
some secret
spot
5ready to move
tn action
Sscantily clad
bodies
Tdiscuss
+ Sdoubls
Ssecret pur
poses
Wequip our-
selves and
prepare for
action
SS Sv SSE
*These words suggest a contrast to the artificial and strained grief of
Macbeth.
Scene IV] MACBETH
97
There’s daggers in men’s smiles: the near in
blood
The nearer bloody.*
Mal. This murderous shaft that’s shot
Hath not yet lighted; and our safest way
Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse;
And let us not be dainty of ? leave-taking,
But shift away: there’s warrant in’ that theft
Which steals itself when there ’s no mercy left.
[Exeunt.
130
ScENE IV. Outside MacBetu’s Castle.
Enter Ross and an Old Man.
Old M. Threescore and ten I can remember
well:
Within the volume! of which time I have seen
Hours dreadful and things strange; but this
sore® night
Hath trifled* former knowings.
Ross. Ah, good father,
Thou seest, the heavens, as? troubled with
man’s act,
Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock’tis day,
And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp.
Is ’t night’s predominance, or the day’s shame,
That darkness does the face of earth entomb,
When living light should kiss it?f
Old M. ’Tis unnatural, 10
Even like the deed that’s done. On Tuesday last,
A falcon, towering in her pride of place,"
Was by a mousing? owl hawk’d at* and kill’d.
Ross. And Duncan’s horses—a thing most
strange and certain—
lreached its
mark
*scrupulous
about
excuse, or jus-
tification
for
{course
Sdreadful
‘made as trifles
in compari-
son
Tas if
the world
9i.e. the sun
Yeircling aloft
lithe highest
point to
which she
soars
2mouse-hunt-
ing
Battacked on
the wing
ne er er
*The nearer any man (e.g. Macbeth) is in relationship to us, the more
prone he will be to commit murder.
tIs it that night’s (harmful) influence prevails triumphantly over the
daylight, or is it because the day is ashamed to show her light (when such deeds
of darkness are being done) that darkness still casts its black shroud over the
surface of the earth, at an hour when cheering light should salute it?
98 MACBETH
Beauteous and swift, the minions' of their race,
Turn’d wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung
out,
Contending *gainst obedience, as? they would
make
War with mankind.
Old M. ’Tis said, they eat each other.
Ross. They did so, to the amazement of mine
eyes,
That Tog? d upon ’t. Here comes the good
Macduff.
Enter MAcpDuUFF.
How goes the world, sir, now?
Macd. Why, see you not?
Ross. Is ’t known who did this more than
bloody deed?
Macd. Those that Macbeth hath slain.
Ross. Alas, the day!
What good could they pretend?:
Macd. They were suborn’d.4
Malcolm, and Donalbain, the king’s two sons,
Are stol’n away and fled, which puts upon them
Suspicion of the deed
Ross. ’Gainst nature still:
Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin wp®
Thine own life’s means! Then ’tis most like
The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth.
Macd. He is already named, and gone to
Scone
To be invested.
Ross. Where is Dunean’s body?
Macd. Carried to Colme-kill,
The sacred storehouse’ of his predecessors
And guardian of their bones.
Ross. Will you to Scone?
Macd. No, cousin, I’ll to Fife.
Ross. Well, I will thither.
Macd. Well, may you see things well done
there: adieu!
20
30
[Acr II
lmost esteemed
2as if
3aim at
4tncited to it
Sef. 1. 10; paSa
Sutterly devour
| Ttomb
SCENE IV] MACBETH 99
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new!
Ross. Farewell, father.
Old M. God’s benison' go with you; and with | ‘blessing
those 40
That would make good of bad, and friends of
foes!
[Hxeunt.
100 MACBETH
[Acr IIT
ACTH
Scene I. Forres. The Palace. Enter BANQuo.
Ban. Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor,
Glamis, all,
As the weird women promised; and I fear,
T hou play dst most foully for ’t; yet it was said
It should not stand‘ in thy posterity,
But that myself should be the root and father
Of many kings. If there come truth from them—
As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine2—
Why, by the verities* on thee made good,
May they not be my oracles‘ as well,
And set me up in hope? But, hush! no more. 10
Sennet* sounded. Enter Macsetu, asking; Lavy
MacsBeErTu, as queen; LENNox, Ross, Lords,
Ladies, and Attendants.
Macb. WHere’s our chief guest.
Lady M. If he had been forgotten,
It had been as a gap in our great feast,
And _ all-thing® unbecoming.
Macb. To-night we hold a solemn? supper, sir,
And Ill request your presence.
Ban. Let your highness
Command upon me; to the which my duties
Are with a most indissoluble tie
For ever knit.
Macb. Ride you this afternoon?
Ban. Ay, my good lord.
Macb. We should have else desired your good
advice, 20
Which still hath been both grave and prosperous,s
In this day’s council; but we’ll take to-morrow.
Is ’t far you ride?
Ban. As far, my lord, as will fill up the time
lremain,
tinue
con-
with the
brightness
of truth
truths
‘interpret
heaven’s
will for me
‘flourish of
trumpets
21.e.
Saltogether
Tceremonious
Sweighty and
happy, or
leading to
good issues
Scene I] MACBETH
’Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the
better,1
I must become a borrower of the night
For a dark hour or twain.
Macb.
Ban.
Macb.
Fail not our feast.
My lord, I will not.
We hear our bloody? cousins are
bestow ds
In England and in Ireland, not confessing 30
Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers
With strange invention: but of that to-morrow,
When therewithal we shall have cause of state
Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu,
Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with
you?
Ban. Ay,my good lord: our time does call
upon’s.
Macb. I wish your horses swift and sure of
foot;
And so I do commend you to their backs.
Farewell. [Exit BANQUO.
Let every man be master of his time Ze)
Till seven at night: to make society
The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself
Till supper time alone: while® then, God be
with you!
[Exeunt all but MacBETH and an Attendant.
Sirrah, a word with you: Attend those men
Our pleasure?
Atten. They are, my lord, without the palace
gate.
Macb. Bring them before us. [Exit Attendant.
To be thus? is nothing;
But to be safely thus.* Our fears in Banquo
Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature
Reigns that which would ° be fear’d: ’tis much
he dares,
And, to that dauntless temper of his mind,
He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour
To act in safety. There is none but he
Whose being" I do fear: and under him
101
lbetler than
usual
2murderous
8have estab-
lished them-
selves
‘state affairs
still
Ssee Glossary
Tie. crowned
830. something
like: ‘“‘that’s
the thing”
%requires to
Wyrudence
existence
102 MACBETH [Acr IIT
My Genius is rebuked, as, it is said, Imy demon, my
Mark Antony’s was by Cesar. He chid the ial
sisters,
When first they put the name of king upon me,
And bade them speak to him: then, prophet-like, *spoken con-
temptuously
They hail’d him father to a line of kings:
Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, 60
And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, Sgrasp
Thence to be wrench’d with an unlinealt hand, ‘not hered-
No son of mine succeeding. If’t be so, ttary
For Banquo’s issue have I filed® my mind; ‘defiled,
For them the gracious Duncan have I murder’d; tainted
Put rancours® in the vessel of my peace,* Smalice, hatred
Only for them; and mine eternal jewel’ 7immortal soul
Given to the common enemy of man,
To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings:
Rather than so, come, fate, into the list, 70
And champion me to the utterance!’ Who’s there? Schallenge me
Re-enter Attendant with two Murderers. to fight to
Now, go to the door, and stay there till we call. the death
[Exit Attendant.
Was it not yesterday we spoke together?
1 Mur. It was, so please your highness.
Macb. Well, then, now
Have you consider’d of my speeches? Know,
Thatit was he, in the times past, which? held you ®who
So under fortune, which? you thought had been plainly
Our innocent self. This I made good® to you s showed
dees be Boe proved clearly
In our last conference; pass’d in probation with" ie
you Sas we say
How you were borne in hand,? how cross’d,'8 “taken wn”
the instruments, 80 | “thwarted
Who wrought with them, and all things else,
that might
To half a soul and to a notion crazed
Say, “Thus did Banquo.”
1 Mur. You made it known to us.
_ “Made myself live at discord with myself.".—Scumrpr. (Schmidt,
Heinrich Julian, born at Marienwerder, Prussia, 1818; died, 1886. A German
literary historian and journalist).
Scene I] MACBETH
Macb. JI did so, and went further, which! is
now
Our point of second meeting. Do you find
Your patience so predominant in your nature,
That you can let this go? Are you so gospell’d
To? pray for this good* man and for his issue,
Whose heavy hand hath bow’d you te the grave
And beggar’d yours for ever?
1 Mur. We are men,‘ my liege. 90
Macb. Ay, in the catalogue® ye go for men;
As hounds, and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels,
curs,
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves,* are
clept®
All by the name of dogs: the valued file’
Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle,
The housekeeper,® the hunter, every one
According to the gift which bounteous nature
Hath in him closed,? whereby he does receive
Particular addition,” from the bill!
That writes them all alike: and so of men.
Now, if you have a station" in the file,
Not iv the worst rank* of manhood, say ’t;
And I will put that business in your bosoms"
Whose execution takes your enemy off,
Grapples you to the heart and love of us,
Who wear our health but sickly in his life,f
Which in'* his death were perfect.
2 Mur. I am one, my liege,
Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world
Have so incensed, that I am reckless what
I do to spite the world.
1 Mur. And I another, 110
So weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune,
That I would set my life on any chance,
To mend it or be rid on ’t.
Macb.
100
Both of you
103
land this—the
other topic
2do you so act
up to the
precepts of
the gospel as
to
3spoken tron-
ically
Shuman
general list;
i.e. in com-
mon par-
lance
5Scalled
‘list, showing
values or
prices
8watch-dog
%enclosed,
included
Wei tle
ie. the general
catalogue
Lany position
Borade
14nower
lbgn, or with
*A shough (pronounced shook) is a dog with long hair or shag; a water-
rug is a rough-haired poodle; a demi-wolf is a cross between a dog and a wolf.
tI.e. Whose health is imperfect, or threatened, as long as he lives.
104 MACBETH
Know Banquo was your enemy.
2 Mur. True, my lord.
Macb. So is he mine; and in such bloody
distance,'
That every minute of his being? thrusts
Against my near’ st of life:* and though I could
With barefaced power sweep him from my sight,
And bid my will avouch it,* yet I must not—
For‘ certain friends that are both hisandmine, 120
Whose loves I may not drop—but wails his fall
Who® I myself struck down: and thence it is,
That I to your assistance do make love,
Masking the business from the common eye
For sundry weighty reasons.
2 Mur. We shall, my lord,
Perform what you command us.
i Mur. Though our lives—
Macb. Your spirits? shine through you.
Within this hour at most,
I will advise you where to plant yourselves,
Acquaint you with the perfect spy o’ the time,t
The moment on’t; for ’t must be done to-night, 130
And something’ from the palace; always thought?
That I require a clearness: and with him,—
To leave no rubs nor botches" in the work
Fleance his son, that keeps him company,
Whose absence is no less material? to me
Than is his father’s, must embrace the fate
Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves® apart;
I’ll come to you anon.
2 Mur. We are resolved,“ my lord.
Macb. I'll call upon you straight: abide
within.
[Exeunt Murderers.
It is concluded: Banquo, thy soul’s flight, 140
If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. | Evit.
[Acr III
Ys such a
dangerous
enemy
2existence
3is as a violent
attack on
my vital
parts
‘on account of
57 must bewail
Swhom
7courage
Ssome distance
“%t being
always re-
membered
Mi.e. from sus-
picton
Ur¢mpersections
nor bung-
ling
important *
come to a
definite
deciston
‘determined
ee
*Make my will my (sufficient) reason or justification for it.
tTell you exactly all the circumstances so far as observation can gain a
knowledge of them.
Scene IT] MACBETH
105
ScEenE II. The same. Another Room.
Enter Lavy Macsets and a Servant.
Lady M. Is Banquo gone from court?
Serv. Ay, madam, but returns again to-night.
Lady M. Say to the king, I would attend his
leisure
For a few words.
Serv. Madam, I will. [Eaxit.
Lady M. Naught’s had, all’s spent.
Where our desire is got without content:!
’Tis safer to be that which we destroy
Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.
Enter MaAcBETH.
How now, my lord? why do you keep alone,
Of sorriest? fancies your companions making;
Using those thoughts which should indeed have
died 10
With them they think on? Things without all
remedy
Should be without regard:* what ’s done, is done.
Macb. We have scotch’d: the snake, not kill’d
1t:
She’ll close’ and be herself, whilst our poor®
malice
Remains in danger of her former tooth.
But let the frame of things disjoint,’ both the
worlds suffer,
Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep
In the affliction of these terrible dreams
That shake us nightly; better be with the dead,
Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, 20
Than on the torture of the minds to lie
In restless ecstasy.2 Duncan is in his grave;
After life’s fitful fever” he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic," foreign levy,'* nothing
Can touch him further.
Lady M. Come on;
Icontentment,
peace of
mind
2saddest
3should not
be regarded
or thought of
slightly
wounded
5Sheal wp
®feeble, useless
‘fabric of the
world fall to
pieces
8with our
minds upon
the rack
Iunceasing
agony
10feverish agita-
tion
llj.e. treason at
home
12forces
106 MACBETH
[Acr III
Gentle, my lord, sleek o’ert your rugged looks;
Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night.
Macb. So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be
you:
Let your remembrance? apply to Banquo; 30
Present him eminence,* both with eye and tongue:
Unsafe? the while that we
Must lave our honours in these flattering streams,t
And make our faces visards to‘ our hearts,
Disguising what they are.
Lady M. You must leave this.
Macb. O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear
wife!
Thou know’st that Banquo, and his Fleance,
lives.
Lady M. But in them nature’s copy ’s not
eterne.®
Macb. There’s comfort yet; they are assail-
able;
Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown 40
His cloister’d flight, ere to black Hecate’s sum-
mons
The shard-borne beetle’ with his drowsy hums
Hath rung night’s yawning peal, there shall be
done
A deed of dreadful note.
Lady M. What’s to be done?
Macb. Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest
chuck,
Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling?
night,
Scarf ups the tender eye of pitiful day,
And with thy bloody and invisible hand
Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond
Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the
crow 50
Makes wing to the rooky” wood;
*Pay court to him as a most distinguished guest.
1smooth
2courtesies
Swe being un-
safe
‘masks to con-
ceal
‘their tenure of
life is not
permanent
Sbeetle with its
scaly wings
"le. that closes
the eyelids
S8blindfold
®bond by which
Banquo
holds his
life. See 1.
38
haunted by
rooks
}Keep our dignities clear from suspicion (or from the consequences which
may result from suspicion) by means of flattery.
Scene IIT] MACBETH
107
Good things of day begin to droop and drowse:
Whiles night’s black agents! to their preys do
rouse.”
Thou marvell’st at my words; but hold thee still:
~ Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
So, prithee, go with me.
ScenE III. A Park near the Palace.
Enter three Murderers.
1 Mur. But who did bid thee join with us?
8 Mur. Macbeth.
2 Mur. He needs not our mistrust,’ since he
delivers
Our offices and what we have to do
To the direction just.®
1 Mur. Then stand with us.
The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day:
Now spurs the lated® traveller apace
To gain the timely’ inn, and near approaches
The subject of our watch.
8 Mur. Hark! I hear horses.
Ban. [Within.] Give usa light there, ho!
2 Mur.
That are within the note of expectation,
Already are 7’ the court.
1 Mur. His horses go about.®
3 Mur. Almost a mile: but he does usually,
So all men do, from hence to the palace gate
Make it their walk.
Enter BANquo and FLEANCE with a torch.
2 Mur. A light, a light!
8 Mur.
1 Mur. Stand to’t.»
Ban. It will be rain to-night.
1 Mur. Let it come down.
[They set upon BANQUO.
Ban. O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly,
fly, fly!
’Tis he.
[Exeunt.
Then ’tis he: the rest 10
le.g. bats,
wolves,
murderers
rise
3we need not
distrust
him
‘reports our
duties
Seractly as we
were in-
structed
belated
Twelcome
8on the list of
expected
®round
Wkeep firm
108 MACBETH | [Acr III
ee
Thou mayst revenge. O slave! |
[Dies. FLEANCE escapes.
3 Mur. Who did strike out the light? |
1 Mur. Was ’t not the way? 20
3 Mur. There ’s but one down; the son is fled.
2 Mur. We have lost
Best half of our affair.
1 Mur. Well, let’s away, and say how much
is done. [Exeunt.
Scene IV. Hall in the Palace.
A Banquet prepared. Enter Macsrru, Lapy
Macsetu, Ross, Lennox, Lords and Attendants:
Macb. You know your own degrees,- sit ‘ranks, _ hence
down; at first a at
And last* the hearty welcome. -
Lords. Thanks to your majesty.
Macb. Ourself will mingle with society
And play the humble host.
Our hostess keeps her state,? but in best time,3 *chair of state
We will require hert welcome. “ae ae proper
Lady M. Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our all pom her
friends; to bid you
For my heart speaks they are welcome.
First Murderer appears at the door.
Macb. See, they encounter> thee with their *reply to (by
hearts’ thanks. their
Both sides are even: here I’ll sit i’ the midst: 10 actions)
Be large’ in mirth; anon, we’ll drink a measure *free, uncon-
The table round. [Approaching the door.] There’s strained
blood upon thy face.
Mur. ’Tis Banquo’s, then.
Macb. ’Tis better thee without? than he Toutside (the
within. door)
Is he dispatch’d?
Mur. My lord, his throat is cut; that I did
for him.
*In the first place and in the last place; hence, once for all.
Scene IV] MACBETH 109
Macb. Thou art the best o’ the cut-throats;
yet he ’s good,
That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it,
Thou art the nonpareil. lunmatched,
Mur. | Most royal sir, have no
Fleance is ’scaped. 20 equal
Macb. [Aside.] Then comes my fit again: I
had else been perfect,
Whole? as the marble, founded as the rock, 2sound
As broad and general as the casing air:*
But now, lam cabin’d, cribb’d, confined, bound
int
To saucy? doubts and fears.—But Banquo’s safe? syiolent
Mur. Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he
bides,
With twenty trenchéd: gashes on his head, ‘deep-cut
The least a death to nature.
Macb. Thanks for that.
[Aside.] There the grown serpent lies; the
worm® that’s fled si,e, Fleance
Hath nature that in time will venom breed, 30
No teeth for the present.—Get thee gone: to-
morrow
We'll hear ourselves* again. [Exit Murderer. Seach other
Lady M. My royal lord,
You do not give the cheer.? The feast is sold "cheerful
That is not often vouch’d, while ’tis a-making, welcome
Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at
home;
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.t
*As absolutely free and unrestrained as is the surrounding air.
+These expressions are nearly, but not quite synonymous, each being a
stronger word than the preceding, e.g. imprisoned, caged, bound in, enslaved
to.
tA feast to invited guests is no better than a meal that is had for payment
if it is not often asserted during its progress that the guests are heartily wel-
come. Mere feeding is best done at home: away from home, some forms of
ceremony are required to give zest to the banquet. If these forms be absent,
it is no feast at all.
110 MACBETH [Acr IIT
Macb. Sweet remembrancer!
Now good digestion wait on appetite,
And health on both!
Len. May ’t please your highness sit?
[Enter the Ghost of BANquo, and sits in MACBETH’s
place.|
Macb. Here had we now our country’s
honour roof’d,* 40
Were the graced! person of our Banquo present; ‘gracious
Who may I rather challenge for? unkindness *whom I hope I
Than pity for mischance!s may rather
Ross. His absence, sir, Ze aes ~
Lays blame upon his promise. Please ’t your any acci-
highness dent
To grace us with your royal company? ‘favor
Macb. The table ’s full.
Len. Here is a place reserved, sir.
Mach. Where?
Len. Here, my good lord. What is ’t that
moves your highness?
Macb. Which of you have done this?
Lords. What, my good lord?
Mach. Thou canst not say I did it: never
shake 52
Thy gory locks at me.
Ross. Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well.
Lady M. Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often
thus,
And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep
seat;
The fit is momentary: upon a thought® sin an instant
He will again be well: if much you notes him, 8notice
You shall offend him, and extend his passion:
Feed, and regard him not. Are you & man?
Macb. Ay, anda bold one, that dare look on
that
Which might appal the devil.
Lady M. O proper stuff!? 60 | ‘a fine tale
*We should now have under this roof all the distinguished persons who
are an honor to our country.
Scene IV]
This is the very! painting of your fear:
This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said,
Led you to Duncan.
Impostors to? true fear, would well become
A woman’s story at a winter’s fire,
Authorised by her grandam. Shame itself!
Why do youmake such faces? When all’s done,
You look but on a stool.
Macb. Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo!
how say you?
Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak
too. 70
Tf charnel-houses,* and our graves, must send
Those that we bury back, our monuments
Shall be the maws of kites.’ [Ghost vanishes.
Lady M. What, quite unmann’d in folly?
Macb. If I stand here, I saw him.
Lady M. Fie, for shame!
Macb. Blood hath been shed ere now, i’ the
olden time,
Ere human statute purged the gentle weal;*
Ay, and since too, murders have been perform ’d
Too terrible for the ear: the time has been,
That, when the brains were out, the man would
die, 80
And there an end; but now they rise again,
With twenty mortal murders’ on their crowns,
And push us from our stools: this is more strange
Than such a murder is.
Lady M. My worthy lord,
Your noble friends do lack’ you.
Macb. I do forget.
Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends;
I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing
To those that know me. Come, love and health
to all;
Then I’ll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full.
I drink to the general joy o’ the whole table, 90
And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss;
Would he were here! to all and him we thirst,
MACBETH ik
Imerely the
O, these flaws? and starts,’ 2gusts (of
[eon i ee
5 ls
3compared with
4tombs
shall be
food for the
stomach of
kites, which
will become
our monu-
ments
Snurified so-
ciety and
made it
gentle
°we
Tfatal wounds.
Cf 1. 27
8miss
!
312 MACBETH | Acr TIL
And ail to all. : . tall good
Lords. Our duties, and the pledge. wishes
Re-enter Ghost. Dales
Macb. Avaunt!? and quit my sight! Let the away
earth hide thee!
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold;
Thou hast no speculation? in those eyes *power of
Which thou dost glare with. ans
Lady M. Think of this, good peers,
But as a thing of custom: ’tis no other; ‘nothing else
Only it spoils the pleasure of the time
Macb. What man dare, I dare: 100
Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear,
The arm’d* rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; ‘armored—
Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves® Belg ue
Shall never tremble: or, be alive again, merce
And dare’ me to the desert with thy sword; "challenge
If trembling I inhabit then,* protest? me ®declare
The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow!
Unreal mockery, hence! [Ghost vanishes.]
Why, so; being gone,
ITamamanagain. Pray you, sit still.
Lady M. You have displaced? the mirth, *dispelled
broke the good meeting 110
With most admired” disorder. 10wonder-rais-
Macb. Can such things be, ing
And overcome" us like a summer’s cloud, “come over
Without our special wonder? You make me
stranget
Even to the disposition that I owe,” 12possess
When now I think you ean behold such sights,
And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks,
When mine is blanch’d with fear. ‘
Ross. What sights, my lord?
*If I then remain trembling, taking “inhabit” =dwell, remain; or, If I
then put on a trembling, taking “inhabit” =to take as a habit (whether a
costume or a custom). : ‘
tYou make me a stranger to (hence, .wonder at) my own nature; 7.e.
you make me regard my own nature as abnormal.
Scene IV] MACBETH
113
Lady M. I pray you, speak not; he grows
worse and worse;
Question enrages him: At once, good night:
Stand not upon: the order of your going
But go at once.
120
Len. Good night; and better health
Attend his majesty!
Lady M. A kind good night to all!
[Exeunt all but MacBetru and Lavy MacBEru.
Macb. It will have blood: they say blood
will have blood:
Stones have been known to move, and trees to
speak;
Augures* and understood relations have
By age Riek and choughs? and rooks brought
orth
The secret ’st man of blood.* What is the night?
Lady M. Almost at odds with morning, which
is which.
Macb. How say’st thou, that Macduff
denies his person
At our great bidding?
Lady M. Did you send to him, sir? 130
Macb. I hear it by the way; but I will send.
There ’s not a one of them but in his house
I keep a servant fee’d.t 1 will® to-morrow,
And betimes I will, to the weird sisters:
More shall they speak; for now I am bent to
know,
By the worst means, the worst.6 For mine own
ood?
All causes shall give way: I am’ in blood
Stepp’d in so far that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go 0 cra?
Strange things I have in head that will to hand, 140
Which must be acted ere they may be scann’d.
Ibe not par-
ticular
about
2mag pres
sackdaws
tin my pay
Je, (00)
8sc. news
Tto my interests
Shave
%as to go on to
the end
*The science of divination (‘‘Augures”) and a proper understanding of
the relation existing between signs and the events they refer to (“understood
relations’’) have, by means of magpies, jackdaws, and rooks, brought to light
murderers whose deeds have been done with the utmost secrecy.
114 MACBETH
Lady M. You lack the season of? all natures,
sleep.
Mach. Come, we'll to sleep. My strange
and self-abuse
Is the initiate fear, that wants hard use:*
We are yet but young in deed. [Exeunt.
A Heath.
Enter the three Witches, meeting
HECATE.
1 Witch. Why, how now, Hecate! you look
angerly.
Hec. Have I not reason, beldams? as you are,
Saucy and overbold? How did you dare
To trade and traffic with Macbeth
In riddles and affairs of death;
And I, the mistress of your charms,
The close contriver* of all harms,
Was never call’d to bear my part,
Or show the glory of our art?
And, which is worse, all you have done 10
Hath been but for a wayward son,
Spiteful and wrathful; who, as others do,
Loves for his own ends, not for you.
But make amends now get you gone,
And at the pit of Acheron®
Meet me i’ the morning: thither he
Will come to know his destiny.
Your vessels and your spells provide,
Your charms and everything beside.
I am for the air; this night I’ll spend 20
Unto a dismal and a fatal end:
Great business must be wrought ere noon:
Upon the corner of the moon
There hangs a vaporous drop profound;7
I'll catch it ere it come to ground:
ScENE V.
Thunder.
jAcr ITE
Ithat which
preserves
*hags
3secret schemer
‘what
| Macbeth
Ssome gloomy
spot. See
Note III. v.
15
7a low-hanging
drop of va-
por
*The strange manner in which I have allowed myself to be deceived is
the result of fear, such as is felt by a beginner in crime,
pass away as he becomes hardened in wickedness.
whose qualms will
Scene VI] MACBETH
And that, distill’d by magic slezghts,!
Shall raise such artificzal? sprites
As, by the strength of their illusion,’
Shall draw him on to his confusions —
He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear 30
His hopes ’bove wisdom, grace, and fear:
And you all know, security®
Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.
[Music and a Song, within: “Come away, come
away,” etc.
Hark! I am call’d: my little spirit,® see,
Sits in a foggy cloud, and staysforme. [Hzit.
1 Witch. Come, let’s make haste; she'll soon
be back again. [Hxeunt.
Scene VI. The Palace.
Enter LeNNox and another Lord.
Forres.
Len. My former speeches have but hit your
thoughts,
Which can interpret further.’ only, I say,
Things have been strangely borne.* The gra-
cious Duncan
Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead:*
And the right-valiant Banquo walk’d too late;
Whom, you may say, if ’t please you, Fleance
kill’d,
For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late.
Who cannot want the thought,” how monstrous"
It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain
To kill their gracious father? damnéd fact!” 10
How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight,
In pious rage, the two delinquents tear,
That were the slaves of drink and thralls® of sleep?
Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too;
For ’twould have anger’d any heart alive
To hear the men deny ’t. So that, I say,
He has borne" all things well: and I do think,
That, had he Duncan’s sons under his key,—
115
larts
2brought
forth by art
Sdeceptive ap-
pearance
‘destruction
Sover-confi-
dence, care-
lessness
‘familiar. See
Note I. 1.8
Tgsuggest other
instances
Scarried on
I,e, when
Macbeth
pitied him
Wcan any one
help think-
ng
Ujnhuman
deed, crume ;
L. factum
Bslaves
Umanaged
116 MACBETH
As, an ’t please heaven, he shall not,W—they
should find
What ’twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. 20
But, peace! for from broad words,? and ’cause he
fail’d
His presence at the tyrant’s feast, I hear
Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell
Where he bestows himself?
Lord. The son of Duncan
From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth,
Lives in the English court, and is received
Of the most pious Hdward: with such grace
That the malevolence’ of fortune nothing
Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff
Is gone to pray the holy king, upon’ his aid 30
To wake’ Northumberland and warlike Siward;
That, by help of these, with Him above
To ratify the work, we may again
Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights,
Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives,
Do faithful homage and receive free honours?
All which we pine for now: and this report
Hath so exasperate the king, that he
Prepares for some attempt of war.
Len. Sent he to Macduff?
Lord. He did: and with an absolute “Sir,
MOte 40
The cloudy” messenger turns me his back,
And hums, as who should say, “ You’ll rue the
time
That clogs® me with this answer.”
Len. And that well might
Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance
His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel
Fly to the court of England, and unfold
His message ere he come, that a swift blessing
May soon return to this our suffering countrys
Under a hand accursed!
Lord. I’ll send my prayers with him.
[Exeunt.
[Acr III
Ise, have
?on account of
some free
speaking
5is keeping his
rightful
inheritance
‘i.e. the Con-
fessor
Senmity
St90 come to
Trouse
Slegitimate
(ie. to the
rightful
king)
°the honors
due to free
men
Wsullen
ethic dative
burdens
Beountry
suffering
ScENE 1| MACBETH
117
ACTSLV:
Scene I. A Cavern: In the middle a boiling
Cauldron.
Thunder. Enter the three Witches.
1 Witch. Thrice the brinded' cat hath mew’d.
2 Witch. Thrice and once? the hedge-pig'
whined.
3 Witch. Harpier cries, “’Tis time, ’tis time.”
1 Witch. Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison’d entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights has thirty one
Swelter’d® venom, sleeping got,
Boil thou first i’ the charméd pot.
All. Double, double® toil and trouble: 10
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
2Witch. Fillet’ of a fenny snake,
Tn the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wools of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s® sting,
Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
All. Double, double toil and trouble; 20
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
3 Witch. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches mummy, maw and gulf”
Of the ravin’d" salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver’d4 in the moon’s eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips,
1brindled, i.e.
marked like
a tiger
2observe the odd
numbers
3hog
4dissyllable
Sexuded
let us double
Tslice
8down, soft
feathers
| 9slow-worm
loyoung owl
Udried carcass
stomach and
gullet
ravenous
Ustripped off
118 MACBETH
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Make the gruel thick and slab
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,?
For the ingredients of our cauldron.
All. Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
2 Witch. Cool it with a biboon’s blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.
Enter Hecate to the other three Witches.
Hec. O, well done! I commend your pains:
And every one shall share i’ the gains.
And now about the cauldron sing,
Like elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.
30
40
[Music and a Song, ‘Black spirits,” ete.
[HecATE retires.
2 Witch. By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes: [Knocking.
Open, locks,
Whoever knocks!
Enter MacBetu.
Macb. How now, you secret, black, and mid-
night hags!
What is ’t you do?
All. A deed without a name.
oe I conjure you, by that which you pro-
ess,
Howe’er you come to know it, answer me:
Though you untie the winds, and let them fight
Against the churches; though the yesty’ waves
Confound* and swallow navigation’ up;
Though bladed corn® be lodged,’ and trees blown
down;
Though castles topple on their warders’ heads;
Though palaces, and pyramids do slope
Their heads to their foundations ; though the
treasure
50
[Act IV
lslimy
2entrails
‘foaming,
seething
‘destroy
abstract for
concrete
Sgrain in the
blade; un-
ripe grain
‘laid low or flat
Scene I] MACBETH
119
Of nature’s germens' tumble all together,
Even till destruction sicken;* answer me
To what I ask you.
1 Witch. Speak.
2 Witch. Demand.
8 Witch. We'll answer. 60
1 Witch. Say, if thou’dst rather hear it from
our mouths,
Or from our masters?
Macb. Call ’em; let me see ’em.
1 Witch. Pour insow’s blood, that hath eaten
Her nine farrow,? grease that ’s sweaten*
From the murderer’s gibbet throw
Into the flame.
All. Come, high or low;
Thyself and office deftly show!
Thunder.
Macb. ‘Tell me, thou unknown power,—
1 Witch. He knows thy thought:
Hear his speech, but say thou nought. 70
t App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! be-
ware Macduff;
Beware the thane of Fife.
First Apparition: an armed Head.‘
Dismiss me: enough.
| Descends.
Macb. Whate’er thou art, for thy good caution
thanks:
Though hast harp’d* my fear aright. But one
word, MOLG.c—
1 Witch. He will not be commanded. Here ’s
another,
More potent than the first.
Thunder. Second Apparition: a Bloody Child.’
2 App. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!
Macb. Had I three ears, I ’ld hear thee.
2App. Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh
to scorn
1germs, buds, or
shoots
litter of nine
sfallen wm
sweat
4symbolical of
Macbeth
himself.
See stage
directions,
V. viii. 53
5touched
Ssymbolizing
Macduff.
See V. viii.
16
*Though the precious seeds (or elements) from which all life springs be
hopelessly destroyed, so that even destruction itself grows weary of its work.
120 MACBETH [Act IV
The power of man, for none of woman born 80
Shall harm Macbeth. [Descends.
Macb. Then live, Macduff: what need I fear
of thee?
But yet I’ll make assurance double sure,
And take a bond: of? fate:* thou shalt not live; ‘pledge,
That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, 1 Security
And sleep in spite of thunder. ‘from
Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned,? *representing
with a tree in his hand. | ass) pied
What is this, colm
That rises like the issue‘ of a king; ‘offspring
And wears upon his baby-brow the round : ;
And top® of sovereignty? ‘cram ana ; us
All. Listen, but speak not to ’t. po ea
3 App. Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no ip
care
Who chafes, who frets,° or where conspirers are: | “rages
Macbeth shall never vanquish’d be, until
Great Birnam Wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him. [Descends.
Macb. That will never be: :
Who can impress’ the forest, bid the tree ‘press into ser-
Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements!s by focal
ood! Sierediiclion
Rebellion’s head, rise never, till the wood
Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth |
Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath» Snatural term
To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart 100 sone ff years
Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art ie
Can tell so much: shall Banquo’s issue ever
Reign in this kingdom?
All. Seek to know no more.
Macb. I will be satisfied: deny me this,
*The meaning is: ‘‘I have been assured that none of woman born shall
harm me. Therefore I need fear no man. But I will not let this assurance
suffice. In order that I may be doubly secured I will make fate (or destiny)
give me a bond (which is stronger than an assurance).”’
The murder of Macduff would be a security taken from fate pledging
the fulfilment of its assurance,
ScENE I] MACBETH
And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know.
Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this?
|Hautboys.
1 Witch. Show!
2 Witch. Show!
8 Witch. Show!
All. Show his eyes and grieve his heart;
Come like shadows, so depart!
110
A show' of eight Kings,? the last with a glass’ in his
hand; Banquo’s Ghost following.
Macb. Thou art too like the spirit of Ban-
quo; down!
Thy crown does sear! mine eye-balls. And thy hair,
Thou other gold-bound: brow, is like the first.
A third is like the former. Filthy hags!
Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start,’ eyes!
What! will the line stretch out to the crack of
doom?
Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more:
And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass,’
Which shows me many more; and some I see 120
That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry :*
Horrible sight! Now I see ’tis true;
For the blood-bolter’d Banquo? smiles upon me,
And points at them for his. [Apparitions vanish.
What! is this so?
1 Witch. Ay sir, all this is so: but why
Stands Macbeth thus amazedly?
Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,
And show the best of our delights:
I'll charm the air to give a sound,
While you perform your antic round,
That this great king may kindly say,
Our duties did his welcome pay.”
130
[Music. The Witches dance, and then vanish,
with HECATE.
Macb. Where are they? Gone? Let this
pernicious" hour
121
1procession
2Scotch kings,
ancestors of
James I,
King of
England
Smirror
4burn, scorch
5crowned
Sleap from
your sockets
Tjudgment-day
8Banquo with
his hair
matted with
thick blood
Your best diver-
sions or
games
we have given
him a
respectful
welcome
Udeadly
*See Note IV. i. 121, p. 158.
122 MACBETH [Act IV
Stand aye accurséd in the calendar!
Come in, without there!
Enter LENNOX.
Len. What’s your grace’s will?
Macb. Saw you the weird sisters?
Len. No, my lord.
Macb. Came they not by you?
Len. No indeed, my lord.
Macb. Infected be the air whereon they ride;' lsee Introduc-
And damn ’d all those that trust them! I did hear tion, p. 34
The galloping of horse: who was’t came by? 140
Len. ’Tis two or three, my lord, that bring
you word,
Macduff is fled to England.
Macb. Fled to England!
Len. Ay, my good lord.
Macb. [Aside.] Time, thou anticipates? my 2preventest
dread exploits:
The flighty® purpose never is o’ertook, fleeting
Unless the deed go with it: from this moment
The very firstlingst of my heart shall be
The firstlingst of my hand.* And even now, ‘first-fruit
To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought
and* done: : ‘ °no sooner
The castle of Macduff I will surprise; 150 thought than
Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o’ the sword
His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls
That trace him in his line. No boasting like a Scarry on: his
fool; line of de-
This deed I’ll do before this purpose cool: scent
But no more sights!—Where are these gentlemen?
Come, bring me where they are. [Exeunt.
ScENE II. Fife. Macpurr’s Castile.
Enter Lavy Macpurr, her Son, and Ross.
Lady M. What had he done, to make him
fly the land?
*T.e. Action shall accompany thought.
Scene IT] MACBETH
123
Ross. You must have patience, madam.
Lady M. He had none:
His flight was madness: when our actions do not,
Our fears do make us traitors.
Ross. You know not
Whether it was his wisdom or his fear.
Lady M. Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave
his babes,
His mansion, and his ¢zéles,! in a place
From whence himself does fly? He loves us not;
He wants the natural touch; for the poor wren,
The most diminutive of birds, will fight, 10
Her young ones in her nest, against the owl.
All is the fear and nothing is the love;*
As little is the wisdom, where the flight
So runs against all reason.
Ross. My dearest coz,
I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband,
He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows
The fits o’ the season. I dare not speak much
further;
But cruel are the times, when we are traitors
And do not know ourselves; when we hold:
rumour
From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, 20
But float upon a wild and violent sea
Each way and move.'{_ I take my leave of you:
Shall not be long but I’ll be here again:
Things at the worst® will cease, or else climb up-
ward
To what they were before.
Blessing upon you!
My pretty cousin,
*Fear (with Macduff) is
Ipossesstons
2instinets of
nature
3interprets the
sudden and
violent dis-
orders of
the tumes
4accept
5movement
Slowest
everything, while love counts for nothing.
Subsequent events and the further unfolding of Macduff’s character will show
that he is here unjustly censured by his wife, who misjudges his motives.
+The meaning of these lines appears to be:
“We are traitors without
knowing ourselves to be such (as Macduff was unwittingly a traitor to his
wife); our fears sugges
+ rumors to us for which we have no grounds (as Lady
Macduff’s did), and yet our very fears are vague and undefined and chop and.
change, as a spar floats this way and that upon the waves of a wild and violent
sea.
124 MACBETH [Acr IV
Lady M. Father’d he is, and yet he’s father-
less.
Ross. Iamso mucha fool, should I stay longer,
It would be my disgrace and your discomfort: tie. I should
I take my leave at once. [ Exit. weep
Lady M. Sirrah, your father ’s dead: 30
And what will you do now? How will you live?
Son. As birds do, mother.
Lady M. What, with? worms and flies? on
Son. With? what I get, I mean; and so do
they.
Lady M : Poor bird! thou ’Idst never fear the
net nor lime,’ 8bird-lime
The pit-fall nor the gin.‘ ‘trap
Son. Why should I, mother? Poor birds
they are not set for.® ‘trapped
My father is not dead, for all your saying.
Lady M. Yes, he is dead: how wilt thou do
for a father?
Son. Nay, how will you do for a husband?
Lady M. Why, I can buy me twenty at any
market. 40
Son. Then you’ll buy ’em to sell again.
Lady M. Thou speak’st with all thy wit, and
yet, 1’ faith,
With wit enough for thee.
Son. Was my father a traitor, mother?
Lady M. Ay, that he was.’ | “meaning, of
Son. What is a traitor? padeteg.
Lady M. Why, one that swears and lies Pie? .
Son. And be all traitors that do so? ‘takes and
Lady M. Every one that does so is a traitor, breaks the
and must be hanged. 50 oath of alle-
Son. And must they all be hanged that swear cli 2
and lie?
Lady M. Every one.
Son. Who must hang them?
Lady M. Why, the honest men.
Son. Then the liars and swearers are fools :
for there are liars and swearers enough
to beat the honest men,and hang up them.
Scene IT] MACBETE
125
Lady M. Now God help thee, poor monkey!*
But how wilt thou do for a father?
Son. If he were dead, you’ld weep for him:
if you would not, it were a good sign that
I should quickly have a new father.
Lady M. Poor prattler, how thou talk’st!
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. Bless you, fair dame! I am not to
you known,
Though in your state of honour I am perfect.*
I doubt,2 some danger does approach you nearly:
If you will take a homely man’s advice,
Be not found here; hence, with your little ones.
To fright you thus, methinks I am too savage;
To do worse? to you were fell‘ cruelty,
Which® is too nigh your person. Heaven pre-
serve you!
J dare abide no longer. [Exit.
Lady M. Whither should I fly?
I have done no harm. But I remember now
I am in this earthly world, where to do harm
Is often laudable; to do good sometime
Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas!
Do I put up that womanly® defence,
To say I have done no harm? What are these
faces?
Enter Murderers.
1 Mur. Where is your husband?
Lady M. I hope, in no place so unsanctified
Where such as thou mayst find him.
1 Mur. He’s a traitor.
Son. Thou liest, thou shag-hair’d’ villain!
1 Mur. What, you egg!
[Stabbing him.
Young fry* of treachery!
Son. He has kill’d me, mother:
Run away, I pray you.
60
70
80
[ Dies.
la term of en-
dearment
fear
3less, 1.e. by not
telling you
your danger
‘frightful
Sie. cruelty ts
already
Sfeminine
Tshaggy
8spawn, off-
spring. See
Glossary
*Though I am perfectly acquainted with your honorable rank,
126 MACBETH [Acr IV
[Exit Lapy Macpurr, crying “Murder!”
and pursued by the Murderers.
Scene II. England. Before the Ktna’s Palace.
Enter Matcotm and Macpurr.
Mal. Let us seek out some desolate shade,
and there
Weep our sad bosoms empty.
Macd. Let us rather
Hold fast the mortal: sword, and like good? men ‘death-dealing
Bestride’ our down-fall’n birthdom. Each new *brave
morn 3stand up in
New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows ie
Strike heaven on the face, that! it resounds ‘cry aloud to
As if it felt with Scotland and yell’d out er
Like syllable of dolour.* Sory ad pain
Mal. What I believe, I’ll wail,s Shewail
What know, believe; and what I can redress,
As I shall find the time to friend, I will. 10
What you have spoke, it may be so perchance.
This tyrant, whose sole’ name blisters our 7mere
tongues,
Was ae thought honest; you have loved him
well;
He hath not touch’d you yet. I am young;
but something
You may deserve of him through me, and wis-
doms : 8sc. it may be
To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb
To appease an angry god.
Macd. Iam not treacherous.
Mal. But Macbeth is.
A good and virtuous nature may recoil? °swerve from
In an imperial charge.” But I shall crave your the right
pardon: 909 | the execution
That ee you are my thoughts cannot trans- of ene i
*I.e. My suspicions cannot make you bad if you are d
J : J g } good, nor can m
thoughts make you good if you are bad. Transpose here means “‘alter.”? 4
Scenz IIT] MACBETH
Angels are bright still, though the brightest: fell:
Though all things foul would wear the brows of
grace,*
Yet grace? must still look so.
Macd. I have lost my hopes.
Mal. Perchance even there where I did find
my doubts.
Why in that rawness‘ left you wife and child,
Those nou motives,> those strong knots of
ove,
Without leave-taking? I pray you,
Let not my jealousies be your dishonours,®
But mine own safeties. You may be rightly
just, 30
Whatever I shall think.
Macd. Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dare not check thee: wear thou
thy wrongs;
The title is affeer’d!’_ Fare thee well, lord:
I would not be the villain that thou think’st
For the whole space that’s in the tyrant’s grasp,
And the rich East to boot.’
Mal. Be not offended:
I speak not as in absolute fear of you.
I think our country sinks beneath the yoke;
It weeps, it bleeds, and each new day a gash 40
Is added to her wounds: I think withal
There would be hands uplifted in my right;
And here, from gracious England® have J offer
Of goodly thousands: but, for all this,
When I shall tread upon the tyrant’s head,
Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country
Shall have more vices than it had before,
127
tLe. Lucifer
virtue, eaxcel-
lence
3the same
Shurry, haste
Simpulses to
love
Ssuspicions im-
pute dis-
honorable
motives
Tihy title to
them is es-
tablished
8in addition
%.e. the King
of England
Wbhear, carry
*Even if everything that is ugly and base were to assume the beautiful
exterior proper to virtue, yet virtue herself must still remain unchanged in
For the sentiment implied, cf. I. iv. 11:-—
appearance.
There’s no art,
To find the mind’s construction in the face.
tI.e. Perhaps by finding that I received you with suspicion.
128 MACBETH
[Act IV
More suffer and more sundry ways than ever,
By him that shall succeed.
Macd. What should he be?
Mal. It is myself I mean; in whom I know 50
All the particulars? of vice so grafted,
That, when they shall be open’d,* black Macbeth
Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state
Esteem him as a lamb, being compared
With my confineless harms.
Macd. Not in the legions
Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn’d
In evils, to top’ Macbeth.
Mal. I grant him bloody,
Lucurious,® avaricious, false, deceitful,
Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin
That has a name: but there’s no bottom, none, 60
In my voluptuousness; better Macbeth,
Than such a one to reign.
Macd. Boundless intemperance
In nature is a tyranny;* it hath been
The untimely emptying of the happy throne
And fall of many kings. But fear not yet
To take upon you what vs yours:8 you may
Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty,
And yet seem cold, the time you may so hood-
wink.
Mal. With this, there grows
In my most ill-composed affection? such
A staunchless avarice that, were I king,
I should cut off the nobles for their lands,
Desire his” jewels, and this other’s house:
And my more-having would be as a sauce
To make me hunger more, that" I should forge
Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal,
Destroying them for wealth.
Macd. This avarice
Sticks deeper, grows with more pernicious root
Than summer-seeming® lust; and it hath been
|
Ithrough, at
the hands
of
2particular
forms
3come to
blossom
‘infinite wick-
edness
*surpass
Sunchaste
Tyiolent
Si.e. the
sovereignty
®wrongly con-
stituted na-
ture
Wone man’s
Uso that
short-lived (as
a summer)
*The unrestrained indulgence of one’s natural passions is a usurpation;
i.e. it usurps the place of the will and the intelligence.
Scene IIT] MACBETH
129
The sword of our slain kings: yet do not fear; 80
Scotland hath fozsons: to fill up your will,
Of your mere own; all these are portable,
With other graces weigh’d.
Mal. But I have none: the king-becoming
graces,
As justice, verity, temperance,’ stableness,
Bounty, persevérance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish‘ of them, but abound
In the division of each several crime,*
Acting it many ways. Nay, had I power, I
should 90
Pour the sweet milk of concord into hell,
Uproar® the universal peace, confound
All unity on earth.
Macd. O Scotland, Scotland!
Mal. If such a one be fit to govern, speak:
I am as I have spoken.
Macd. Fit to govern!
No, not to live. O nation miserable,
With an untitled tyrant bloody-scepter’d,
When shalt thou see thy wholesome days again,
Since that the truest issue of thy throne
By his own interdiction® stands accursed, 100
And does blaspheme his breed?? Thy royal father
Was a most sainted king: the queen that bore
thee,
Oftener upon her knees than on her feet,
Dieds every day she lived. Fare thee well!
These evils thou repeat’st wpon® thyself
Have banish’d me from Scotland. O my
breast,
Thy hope ends here!
Mal. Macduff, this noble passion,
Child of integrity, hath from my soul
Wiped the black scruples," reconciled my
thoughts
lrich harvests
2endurable
5self-restraint
‘flavor, touch
5stir up to
tumult
8self-condem-
nation
7slanders his
own race
8i.e. prepared
to die
*recitest
against
Wborn of
Usgywspicions
*Practice freely every crime in all its variations.
tJ.e. Banish from the earth the gentle influence of peace and harmony.
130 MACBETH
[Act IV
To thy good truth and honour. Devilish Mac-
beth 110
By many of these trains! hath sought to win me
Into his power, and modest wisdom? plucks me
From over-credulous haste: but God above
Deal between thee and me! for even now
I put myself to thy direction, and
Unspeak mine own detraction,? here abjure
The taints and blames I laid upon myself,
For strangers to my nature. Iam pure,
Scarcely have coveted what was mine own,
At no time broke my faith, would not betray
The devil to his fellow, and delight
No less in truth than life: my first false speaking
Was this upon myself: what I am truly,
Is thine and my poor country’s, to command:
Whither indeed, before thy here-approach,
Old Siward, with ten thousand warlike men
Already at a point,> was setting forth.
Now we'll together; and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel!* Why are you
silent?
Macd. Such welcome and unwelcome things
at once
’Tis hard to reconcile.
Enter a Doctor.
Mal. Well; more anon. Comes the king
forth, I pray you?
Doct. Ay, sir; there are a crew of wretched
souls
That stay’ his cure: their malady convinces?
The great assay of art;* but at his touch,
Such sanctity hath heaven given his hand,
They presently? amend.
Mal. I thank you, doctor. [Exit Doctor.
Macd. What.’s the disease he means?
Mal. Tis eall’d the evil;
A most miraculous work in this good king;
120
130
lartifices
2sober
prudence
3charges
against my-
self
‘as
| *fully prepared
Sawatt
"beats, baffles
Sefforts of great
medical
skill
Sat once
M.e. King’s
evil. See Note
TV. iii. 138
“May our chance of success equal the justness of our cause!
Scene IIT] MACBETH
131
Which often, since my here-remain in England, 140
I have seen him do. How he solicits heaven,
Himself best knows: but strangely-visited' people,
All swoln and ulcerous, pitiful to the eye,
The mere despair of surgery, he cures,
Hanging a golden stamp* about their necks,
Put on with holy prayers: and ’tis spoken,
To the succeeding royalty he leaves
The healing benediction.s With this
virtue,
He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy,
And sundry blessings hang about his throne,
That speak him full of grace.
strange
150
Enter Ross.
Macd See, who comes here?
Mal. My countryman; but yet I know him
not.
Macd. My ever-gentle cousin, welcome hither.
Mal. I know him now. Good God, betimes
remove
The means that makes us strangers!
Ross. Sir, amen.
Macd. Stands Scotland where it did?
Ross. Alas, poor country!
Almost afraid to know itself. It cannot
Be call’d our mother, but our grave; where
nothing,
But who knows nothing, is once seen to smile;
Where sighs and groans and shrieks that rend
the air
Are made, not mark’d;’ where violent sorrow
seems
A modern ecstasy; the dead man’s knell
Is there scarce ask’d for who; and good men’s
lives
Expire before the flowers in their caps,
Dying or ere’ they sicken.
Macd. O, relation’
Too nice,? and yet too true!
160
Le. afflicted
with strange
diseases
2a gold coin (as
a charm)
3blessed gift of
healing
‘bespeak
Snoticed
every-day
excitement
of the mind
*hefore
8report,
narrative
labored,
runute
San
132 MACBETH
[Act IV
Mal. What ’s the newest grief?
Ross. That of an hour’s age doth hiss' the
speaker;
Each minute teems? a new one.
Macd. How does my wife?
Ross. Why, well.
Macd: And all my children?
Ross. Well, too.
Macd. The tyrant has not batter’d at? their
peace? 170
Ross. No; they were well at peace, when I
did leave ’em.
Macd. Be not aniggard of your speech: how
goes ’t?
Ross. When I came hither to transport the
tidings,
Which I have heavily! borne, there ran a rumour
Of many worthy fellows that were out;®
Which was to my belief witness’d the rather,
For that I saw the tyrant’s power a-foot.
Now is the time of help; your eye in Scotland
Would create soldiers, make our women fight,
To doff* their dire distresses.
Mal. Be ’t their comfort 180
We are coming thither. Gracious England hath
Lent us good Siward and ten thousand men;
An older and a better soldier none
That Christendom gives out.’
Ross. Would I could answer
This comfort with the like! But I have words
That would’ be howl’d out in the desert air,
Where hearing should not latch? them.
Macd. What concern they?
The general cause? or is it a fee-grief
Due to some single breast?
Ross. No mind that ’s honest
But in it shares some woe, though the main part 190
Pertains to you alone.
Maca. If it be mine
Keep it not from me, quickly let me have it.
lcquse to be
hissed
2brings forth
3attacked
‘with heavy
heart
5up in arms
8do-off, be
rid of
Thas to show
Sought to
%catch
Wie. a grief
that has a
particular
owner; a
personal
sorrow.
See Note
IV. iii. 188
Scene IIT] MACBETH
133
Ross. Let not your ears despise my tongue
for ever,
Which shall possess them with! the heaviest sound
That ever yet they heard.
Macd. Hum! I guess at it.
Ross. Your castle is surprised; your wife and
babes
Savagely slaughter’d: to relate the manner,
Were, on the quarry? of these murder’d deer
To add the death of you.*
Mal. Merciful Heaven!
What, man! ne’er pull your hat upon your
brows; 200
Give sorrow words: the grief that does not speak
Whispers the o’er-fraught® heart and bids it
break.
Macd. My children too?
Ross. Wife, children, servants, all
That could be found.
Macd. And I must be from thence!
My wife kill’d too?
Ross. I have said.
Mal. Be comforted:
Let ’s make us: medicines of our great revenge,
To cure this deadly grief.
Macd. He*hasno children. All my pretty
ones?
Did you say, all? O hell-kite! All?
What, all my pretty chickens and theirdam 210
At one fell swoop?
Mal. Dispute it? like a man.
Macd. I shall do so.
But I must also feel it as a man:
I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most precious to me. Did Heaven
look on,
And would not take their part? Sinful Macduff,
Iput them in
possession
"heap (of dead
bodies)
Sover-charged
‘for ourselves
Sout of
6 Malcolm
"battle with
your grief
*The meaning is:
“To tell you the particulars of their death would be
to add your death to theirs and so increase the number of the slain.” _ There
is a play on the word ‘‘deer,”’ which, while meaning literally “game, implies
also ‘‘dear ones.”’
134 MACBETH.
They were all struck for! thee! naught that Iam,
Not for their own demerits,? but for mine,
Fell slaughter on their souls. Heaven rest them
now!
Mal. Be this the whetstone of your sword:
let grief 220
Convert to anger; blunt not the heart, enrage it.
Macd. O,I could play the woman with mine
eyes
And braggart with my tongue! But, gentle
heavens,
Cut short all ¢ntermission;3 front to front
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
Within my sword’s length set him. If he’scape,
Heaven forgive him too!
Mal. This tune goes manly.
Come, go we to the king; our power* is ready;
Our lack is nothing but our leave.* Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking,* and the powers above 230
Put on theirinstruments.t Receive what cheer®
you may:
The night is long that never finds the day.
[Exeunt.
[Act IV
lon account of
faults
3delay
4army
5i.e. ready to
fall (like
ripe fruit)
Sencourage-
ment
*Nothing is lacking but that we should take our leave.
}Heaven is now setting to work its ministers of vengeance (i.e. Malcolm,
Macduff, and their army).
Scene I] MACBETH
135
AGILE.
ScenE I. Dunstnane. Ante-room tn the Castle.
Enter a Doctor of Physic and a Waiting-Gentlewoman.
Doct. I have two nights watched with you,
but can perceive no truth in your report. When
was it she last walked?
Gent. Since his majesty went into the field, I
have seen her rise from her bed, throw her night-
gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth
paper, fold it, write upon ’t, read it, afterwards
seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this
while in a most fast sleep.
Doct. <A great perturbation? in nature, to
receive at once the benefit of sleep, and do the
effects of watching.* In this slumbery agita-
tion, besides her walking and other actual per-
formances, what, at any time, have you heard
her say?
Gent. That, sir, which I will not report
after her.
Doct. You may, to me; and ’t is most meet
you should.
Gent. Neither to you nor any one, having no
witness to confirm my speech. Lo you, here
she comes!
Enter Lapy Macsetu, with a taper.
This is her very guise; and, upon my life, fast
asleep. Observe her; stand close.’
Doct. How came she by that light?
Gent. Why, it stood by her: she has light by
her continually; ’tis her command.
ldressing-gown
10 | *confusion
Sperform the
actions of
one who is
awake
20
4custom, way
Sie. keep out
of sight
136 MACBETH
[Act V
Doct. You see, her eyes are open.
Gent. Ay, but their sense ts shut.
Doct. What is it she does now?
she rubs her hands.
Gent. Itisan accustomed? action with her, to
seem thus washing her hands: I have known her
continue in this a quarter of an hour.
Lady M. Yet here’s a spot.
Doct. Hark! shespeaks: I will set down what
comes from her, to satisfy my remembrance the
more strongly.
Lady M. Out, damnéd spot! out, I say!—
One: two: why, then ’tis time to do ’t.—Hell is
murky !—Fie, my lord, fie! a soldier, and afeard?
What need we fear who knows it, when none can
call our power to account?—Yet who would
have thought the old man to have had so much
blood in him?
Doct. Do you mark that?
Lady M. The thane of Fife? had a wife:
where is she now?— What, will these hands ne’er
be clean?—No more o’ that my lord, ne more 0’
that: you mar all with this starting.
Doct. Go to, go to; you have known what
you should not.
Gent. She has spoke what she should not, I
am sure of that: heaven knows what she has
known.
Lady M. Here’s the smell of the blood still:
all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this
little hand. Oh . . oh . oh!
Doct. What a sigh is there! The heart is
sorely charged.®
Gent. I would not have such a heart in my
bosom for the dignity of the whole body.
Look, how
Doct. Well, well, well,—
Gent. Pray God it be,’ sir.
Doct. This disease is beyond my practice:
yet I have known those which have walked in
their sleep, who have died holily in their beds.
Lady M. Wash your hands, put on your
30
40
50
60
Ithe sense of
sight is
excluded
2customary
’Macduff
4see ITI. iv.
63
Soppressed with
a sore
weight
Sall the honors
that are
rendered to
her
7sc. well
Scene IT] MACBETH
nightgown; ook not so pale.—I tell you yet
again, Banquo’s buried; he cannot come out on 70
’S grave.
Doct. Even so?
Lady M. To bed, to bed: there ’s knocking
at the gate. Come, come, come, come, give me
your hand:—What ’s done cannot be undone.
To bed, to bed, to bed! [Hxtt.
Doct. Willshe go now to bed?
Gent. Directly.
Doct. Foul whisperings? are abroad, un-
natural deeds
Do breed unnatural troubles: infected minds 80
To their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets:
More needs she the divine than the physician.
God, God forgive us all! Look after her;
Remove from her the means of all annoyance,’
And stills keep eyes upon her. So, good night:
My mind she has mated,* and amazed my sight.
I think, but dare not speak.
Gent. Good night, good doctor.
[Hxeunt.
Scene II. The Country near Dunsinane.
Drums and colours. Enter Menveita, CAITHNESS,
Anaus, Lennox, and Soldiers.
Ment. The English power’ is near, led on by
Malcolm,
His uncle Siward, and the good Macduff:
Revenges burn in them; for their dear causes
Would to the bleeding and the grim alarm
Excite the mortified man.*
Ang. Near Birnam wood
137
'dressing-
gown
2rumors
Sall means of
injuring
herself
‘constantly
5confounded,
amazed
Sforce, army
*The causes that are near their hearts would drive a dead man (figura-
tively) to deeds of blood and horror. The ‘‘alarm”
to take up arms. Editors generally take
nary feelings, or to the concerns of the world.”
is the call or summons
“mortified” to mean ‘‘dead to ordi-
MACBETH
[Act V
138
Shall we well meet them; that way are they
coming
Caith. Who knows if Donalbain be with his
brother?
Len. For certainsir, heisnot. I havea file
Of all the gentry:? there is Siward’s son,
And many unrough? youths that even now
Protest their first of‘ manhood.
Ment. What does the tyrant?
Caith. Great Dunsinane he strongly fortifies.
Some say he’s mad; others, that lesser hate him,
Do callit valiant fury: but, for certain,
He cannot buckle his distemper’d cause
Within the belt of rule.*
Ang. Now does he feel
His secret murders sticking on his hands;*
Now minutely® revolts upbraid his faith-breach;’
Those he commands move only in command,
Nothing in love: now does he feel his title
Hang loose’ about him, like a giant’s robe
Upon a dwarfish thief.
Ment. Who then shall blame
His pester’d® senses to recoil and start,
When all that is within him does condemn
Itself for being there?
Caith. Well, march we on,
To give obedience where tis truly owed:
Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal,
And with him pour we zn our country’s purge
Each drop of us.
Len. Or so much as it needs
To dew” the sovereign flower and drown tbe weeds.
Make we our march towards Birnam. 31
[Exeunt, marching.
10
20
ScENE ITI.
Enter Macsern, Doctor, and Attendants.
Macb. Bring me no more reports; let them
fly all:
Dunsinane.
A Room in the Castle.
ist
2nobility
sunbearded
4give the first
proof of
their
clinging close
to him
Severy minute
‘violated faith,
treason to
his king
®cf. 1. 17
%harassed
physician,
healer
(Malcolm)
to purge our
country (of
the tyrant)
bedew
Malcolm, the
supreme
healer and
sovereign of
the country
*Maintain authority over his disorganized followers.
Scene IIT] MACBETH
139
Till Birnam wood remove to Dunsinane,
I cannot taint with fear. What ’s the boy
Malcolm?
Was he not born of woman?
know
All Ties consequences? have pronounced me
thus:
“Fear not, Macbeth; no man that ’s born of
woman
Shall e’er have power upon thee.”
false thanes,
And mingle with the English epicures:
The mind I sway by,‘ and the heart I bear,
Shall never sag® with doubt nor shake with fear.
The spirits that
Then fly,
Enter a Servant.
Where gott’st thou that goose look, thou cream-
faced loon?s
Serv. There is ten thousand—
Macb. Geese, villain?
Serv. Soldiers, sir.
Macb. Go, prick thy face, and over-red thy
fear,
Thou lily-livered? boy. What soldiers, patch?s
Death of thy soul! those linen cheeks of thine
Are counsellors to? fear. What soldiers, whey-
face?
Serv. The English force, so please you.
Macb. Takethyfacehence. [Hat Servant.
Seyton!—I am sick at heart,
When I behold—Seyton, I say!—This push”
Will cheer me ever, or disseat me now."
I have lived long enough: my way of life
Is fall ’n into the sear,” the yellow leaf;
And that which should accompany old age,
As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have; but, in their stead,
Curses, not loud but deep, mouth-honour,"
breath,
10
lhe infected
everything that
will happen
to mortals
Sluxury-loving
English
‘that guides my
actions
5droop
Srogue
‘bloodless,
cowardly
8clown, fool
®*suggest
Wattack
will be dect-
sive one
way or the
other
dry. Cf. the
phrase ‘‘au-
tumn of
life”
Bie. speeches
not from
the heart
140 MACBETH [Act V
Which the poor heart would fain! deny, and igladly
dare not.
Seyton!
Enter SeYTon.
Sey. What ’s your gracious pleasure?
Macb. What news more?
Sey. All is confirm’d, my lord, which was
reported. 30
Macb. I'll fight till from my bones my flesh
be hack’d.
Give me my armour.
Sey. *Tis not needed yet. /
Macb. I’ll put it on.
Send out moe? horses; skirr? the country round; "more
Hang those that talk of fear. Give me mine —
armour.
How does your patient, doctor?
Doct. Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming! fancies ‘Le. that come
That keep her from her rest. bie
Macb. Cure her of that. ite
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, 40
Raze out the written troubles of the brain,
And with some sweet oblivious® antidote ‘causing for-
Cleanse the stuff’d* bosom of that perilous stuff a re
Which weighs upon the heart? bairutcheseds”
Doct. Therein the patient
Must minister to himself.
Macb. Throw physic to the dogs, I’ll none of
it.
Come, put mine armour on; give me my staff.
Seyton, send out. Doctor, the thanes fly from
me.
Come, sir, dispatch. If thou couldst, doctor, aaa
cast medically
The water of’ my land, find hers disease, 50 | Sie. Scotland's
And purge it to a sound and pristine? health, rae
I would applaud thee to the very echo, tie: hese
That should applaud again. Pull ’t off, I say. See ll. 32-5
Scene IV] MACBETH
141
What rhubarb, senna, or what purgative dru
Would scour these English heen Hears
thou of them?
ese _ Ay, my good lord; your royal prepara-
ion
Makes us hear something.
Macb. Bring it after me.
I will not be afraid of death and bane,
Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane.
Doct. [Aside.]
and clear,
Profit again should hardly draw me here.
[Hxeunt.
[Exit.
Were I from Dunsinane away
60
Scene IV. Country near Birnam Wood.
Drum and colours. Enter Matcoim, Old Stwarp
and his Son, Macpurr, MENTEITH, CAITHNESS,
Anaus, LENNOX, Ross, and Soldiers, marching.
Mal. Cousins, I hope the days are near at
hand
That chambers? will be safe.
Ment. We doubt it nothing.
Siw. What wood is this before us?
Ment. The wood of Birnam.
Mal. Let every soldier hew him down a
bough
And bear ’t before him: thereby shall we shadow’
The numbers of our host, and make discovery*
Err in report of us.
Sold. It shall be done.
Siw. We learn no ther but the confident
tyrant
Keeps still in Dunsinane, and will endure
Our setting down before ’t.®
Mal. ’Tis his main hope:
For where there is advantage to be® given
Both more and less’ have given him the revolt,
10
\destruction
2our homes
3conceal
4ie. the scouts
sent to dis-
cover our
position
and strength
ssuffer us to lay
siege to wt
Sany opportu-
nity is
Thigh and low
Ssuch as have
been forced
And none serve with him but constrained things®
into service
149 MACBETH
it
[Acr V
Whose hearts are absent too.
Macd. Let our just censures
Attend the true event, and put we on
Industrious soldiership.*
Siw. The time approaches
That will with due decision make us know
What we shall say we have? and what we owe.*
Thoughts speculative their unsure hopes relate,
But certain issue strokes must arbitrate :T 20
Towards which advance the war.
[Exeunt, marching.
Scenz V. Dunstnane. Within the Castle.
Enter, with drum and colours, MacBETH, SEYTON,
and Soldiers.
Macb. Hang out our banners on the outward
walls.
The cry is still, “They come:’
strength
Will laugh a siege to scorn: here let them lie
Till famine and the ague eat them up:
Were they not forced‘ with those that should be
’ our castle’s
ours,
We might have met them dareful,s beard to
beard,
And beat them backward home. [A cry of
women within.] What is that noise?
Sey. It is the cry of women, my good lord.
[Exit.
Macb. Thave almost forgot the taste of fears.
The time has been, my senses would have cool’d® 10
To hear a night-shriek; and my fell’ of hair
Would at a dismal treatise’ rouse and stir?
lproper degree
of definite-
ness
sc. gained
Shave lost
4reinforced (by
deserters
from us)
boldly
8T should have
shuddered
Thead
Sstory
*rise and stand
*We must await the final issue of events (‘‘true event”) before we can
express our opinions with certainty (‘‘just censures”’), and meanwhile let us
make all proper military preparations (‘‘put on industrious soldiership’’).
+Conjectures (“thoughts speculative”), deal with uncertainties: we may
hope but we cannot be sure of anything. The actual result can be decided
only by blows.
ScEnE V] MACBETH
As! life were in ’t. Ihave supp’d full with
horrors:
Direness,? familiar to my slaughterous thoughts,
Cannot once start me.
Re-enter SEYTON.
Wherefore was that cry?
Sey. The queen, my lord, is dead.
Macb. She should have died hereafter ;**
There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps‘ in this petty pace’ from day to day, 20
To the last syllable of recorded time,*
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life ’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets’ his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
Enter a Messenger.
Thou comest to use thy tongue; thy story
quickly.
Mess. Gracious my lord, 30
I should report that which I say I saw,
But knew not how to do it.
Macb. Well, say, sir.
Mess. As I did stand my watch* upon the hill,
I look’d toward Birnam, and anon, methought,
The wood began to move.
Macb. Liar and slave!
Mess. Let me endure your wrath if ’t be not
so:
Within this three mile may you see it coming;
I say, a moving grove.
Macb. If thou speak’st false,
Upon the next tree shalt thou hang alive
143
las if
2horror
3a later time
would have
been more
fitting
‘creep
‘slowly and
unregarded
time of which
a record
may be kept
‘strides theatri-
cally and
rages
8was on guard
*See p. 178 on which this passage is paraphrased.
144 MACBETH
[Acer Vv
Till famine cling thee» if thy speech be sooth, 40
I care not if thou dost for me as much.
I pull in resolution,s and begin
To doubt the equivocation: of the fiend
That lies like truth: “ Fear not, till Birnam wood
Do come to Dunsinane;” and now a wood
Comes toward Dunsinane. Arm, arm, and
out!
If this which he avouches does appear’,
There is nor flying hence, nor tarrying here.
I ’gin to be aweary of the sun,
And wish the estate o’ the world® were now un-
done. 50
Ring the alarum-bell! Blow, wind! come,
wrack!?
At least we’ll die with harness on our back.
[Exeunt.
Scene VI. Dunsinane. A Plain before the Castle.
Drum and colours.
Macopvrr, etc., and their Army, with boughs.
Mal. Now, near enough: your leavy’ screens
throw down,
And show like those you are.®
uncle,
Shall, with my cousin, your right noble son,
Lead our first battle2° worthy Macduff and we
Shall take upon ’s what else remains to do,
According to our order.t!
Siw. Fare you well.
Do we? but find the tyrant’s power to-night,
Let us be beaten, if we cannot fight.
Macd. Make all our trumpets speak; give
them all breath,
Those clamorous harbingers? of blood and 10
death. [Exeunt. Alarums continued.
You, worthy
Enter Matcoim, Old Stwarp,
shrivel thee up
truth
3retn in, or
check, my
strong con-
fidence
‘suspect the
ambiguous
language
is seen to be
true
Sframe of the
universe.
Cf. TL
16
™wreck, ruin
Sleafy
%yourselves in
your true
form
“division, army
corps
plan, arrange-
ment
INF we
messengers
Scene VIT| MACBETH
—
145
Scene VII. Another Part of the Field.
Alarums. Enter MacBerTu.
Macb. They have tied me to a stake; I can-
not fly,
But, bear-like, I must fight the course.1. What’s
he
That was not born of woman? Such a one
Am I to fear, or none.
Enter Young Stwarp.
Yo. Siw. What is thy name?
Macb. Thou lt be afraid to hear it.
Yo. Siw. No; though thou call’st thyself a
hotter name
Than any is in hell.
Macb. My name’s Macbeth.
Yo. Stw. The devil himself could not pro-
nounce a title
More hateful to mine ear.
Macb. No, nor more fearful.
Yo. Siw. Thou liest, abhorred tyrant; with
my sword
I’ll prove the lie thou speak’ st.”
[They fight, and Young Stwarp is slain.
Macb. Thou wast born of woman.
But swords I smile at, weapons laugh to scorn,
Brandish’d by man that ’s of a woman born.
[Hait.
Alarums. Enter MAcDUFF.
Macd. Thatwaythenoiseis. Tyrant, show
thy face!
If thou be’st slain, and with no stroke of mine,
My wife and children’s ghosts will haunt me séwl.°
I cannot strike at wretched kerns,t whose arms
Are hired to bear their staves:* either thou,°
Macbeth,
Or else my sword, with an unbatter’d edge,
10
lattack. See
Note V. vii.
il
2what thou
speakest te
be a lie
sever
“infantry
5lances
8sc. it must
be
146 MACBETH
[Acrsyi
I sheathe again undeeded1. There thou 20
shouldst be;
By this great clatter, one of greatest note
Seems bruited.2 Let me find him, fortune!
And more I beg not. [Exit. Alarums.
Enter Matcotm and Old Stwarp.
Stw. This way, my lord; the castle’s gently
render ’d:3
The tyrant’s people on both sides do fight;
The noble thanes do bravely in the war;
The day almost itself professes yours,
And little is to do.
Mal. We have met with foes
That strike beside us.4
Siw. Enter, sir, the castle.
[Exeunt. Alarums.
Scene VIII. Another Part of the Field.
Enter MacBetu.
Macb. Why should I play the Roman fool,
and die
On mine own sword? Whiles I see lives,5 the
gashes
Do better® upon them.
Enter MacpurFr.
Macd. Turn, hell-hound, turn!
Macb. Of all men else I have avoided thee:
But get thee back; my soul is too much charged
With blood of thine already.
Macd, I have no words;
My voice is in my sword: thou bloodier villain
Than terms can give thee out!’ [They fight.
Macb. Thou losest labour:
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air
With thy keen sword impress,as make me bleed: 10
lunused, hav
ing done ne
deed
"announced
3surrendered
without re-
sistance
‘i.e. purposely
MISS US
‘living beings
Swould do
better
inflicted
Texpress
Scene VIIT] MACBETH
Let fall thy blade on vulnerable crests;
I bear a charméd life, which must not yield
To one of woman born.
Macd. Despair? thy charm;
And let the angel, whom thou still hast served,
Tell thee, Macduff was from his mother’s womb
Untimely ripp’d.
Macb. Accurséd be that tongue that tells me
SO,
For it hath cow’d my better part of man!
And be these juggling fiends no more believed,
That. palter® with us in a double sense; 20
That keep the word of promise to our ear,
And break it to our hope. I’ll not fight with
thee.
Macd. Then yield thee, coward,
And live to be the show and gaze o’ the time:*
We'll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted? upon a pole, and underwrit,
“Here may you see the Tyrant.”
Macb. I will not yield,
To kiss the ground before young Malcolm’s feet
And to be baited with the rabble’s curse.
Though Birnam wood be come to Dunsinane,
And thou opposed, being of no woman born,
Yet I will try the last:s before my body
I throw my warlike shield: lay on, Macduff,
And damn’d be him that first cries, “Hold,
enough!”
[Exeunt, fighting.
Retreat. Flourish. Re-enter, with drum and colours.
Maucom, Old Stwarp, Ross, Thanes and Soldiers.
Mal. I would the friends we miss were safe?
arrived.
Siw. Some must go off; and yet, by these I
see,
So great a day as this is cheaply bought.
Mal. Macduff is missing, and your noble son.
Ross. Yourson, my Lord, has paid a soldier’s
debt:
30
Alarums.
2cease to trust
3always
‘before the nat-
ural time
Sequivocate
8a popular
show and
exhibition
Tpainted and
hung
8make a last
effort
Isafely
101,e. be lost or
killed
148 MACBETH
[Act V
Se
He only lived but till he was a man; 40
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm’d'
In the unshrinking station? where he fought,
But like a man he died.
Sw. Then he is dead?
Ross. Ay, and brought off the field. Your
cause of sorrow
Must not be measured by his worth, for then
It hath? no end.
Sw. Had he his hurts before?
Ross. Ay, on the front.
Siw. Why then, God’s soldier be he!
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death:
And so, his knell is knoll’d.4
Mal. He ’s worth more sorrow, 50
And that I’ll spend for him.
Siw. He ’s worth no more:
They say, he parted* well and paid his score:
And so God be with him! Here comes newer
comfort.
Re-enter MacpuFr, with MacBETH’s head.
Macd. Hail, King! for so thou art; behold,
where stands
The usurper’s cursed head: the time ts free:?
I see thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl,’
That speak my salutation in their minds;*
Whose voices I desire aloud with mine:
Hail, King of Scotland!
All. Hail, King of Scotland!
[Flourish.
Mal. We shall not spend a large expense of
time, 60
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you. My thanes and
kinsmen,
Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland
lcourage
proved
2nosition from
which he
did not
shrink
3would have
4tolled
Sdied
Sdebt (to
nature)
‘day of free-
dom has re-
turned
Schotcest orna-
ment, i.e.
the high
nobility
*Who are speaking in their minds the congratulations to which I now give
utterance,
ScenE VIIT] MACBETH
145
In such an honour named. What ’s more to do,!
Which would be planted newly with the time,*
As? calling home our exiled friends abroad,
That fled the snares of watchful? tyranny;
Producing forth the cruel ministers
Of this dead butcher, and his fiend-like queen,
Who, as ’tis thought, by self and violent hands
Took off her life; this, and what needful else
That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace
We will perform in measure,‘ time, and place:
So, thanks to all at once and to each one,
Whom we invite to see us crown’d at Scone.
[Flourish. Haeunt.
70 |
lto be done
2for example:
| *spying
‘proper degree
*Which we ought now to set to work upon at the beginning of this new
era.
_
7
a
so _
a ‘Fist . eee
Aan *
: > i ? @ >
ate \ oe a
a os _. ot 4
- Say gene ang -_
—_ = att _
ae
i = ae “epi
meee a c
ht? Ege hea =
_
== . =e
&
whe Fm
NOTES
Act I. Scrne I
1. Three Witches. The First Witch, personifying the Past, salutes
Macbeth as Thane of Glamis; the Second, personifying the Present, hails
him as Thane of Cawdor; and the Third, who alone seems able to
discern the Future, salutes him as the one ‘‘that shalt be king here-
after.’’ (See Introduction, p. 31, ‘‘On Witches and Witchcraft.’’)
8. Graymalkin. The name of a cat; the attendant demon of the
First Witch. Such spirits were supposed to accompany sorceresses to en-
able them to perform wonderful feats.
9. Paddock. The name of a toad; the attendant of the Second
Witch.
10. Fair is foul. Coleridge says of the witches: ‘‘They are the
shadowy, obscure, and fearfully anomalous of physical nature, the lawless
of human nature—elemental avengers without sex or kin.’’
Act I. Scrne II
8. The sergeant. A sergeant was originally a person of higher rank
and social position than is now the case.
12. The Western Isles. These are the islands to the west of Scot-
land, now generally known as the Hebrides.
23. Cousin. According to traditional history Duncan and Macbeth
were cousins. Shakespeare, however, uses this term loosely for any
grade of relationship outside of one’s immediate family.
29. Skipping kerns. The epithet is appropriate to light-armed infan-
try; it contains suggestions also of their cowardice.
36. Cracks. Explosions, reports.
39. Golgotha. The mount on which our Lord was put to death. Lit-
erally, the ‘‘place of a skull.’’
47, Fife. A maritime county of Scotland, forming the peninsula be-
tween the Firths of Forth and Tay.
49, Norway. In this line, and in I. iii. 112, Norway stands for the
King of Norway. See under Sweno, l. 58.
52. Cawdor. A small village in Scotland, situated between Inver-
ness and Forres.
151
152 MACBETH
53. Bellona. (‘‘ War-goddess’’), Sister of Mars, upon whom she
attended. She was a murderous war-goddess, and was worshipped in
Rome, Pontus, and Cappadocia.
58. Sweno. King of Denmark and Norway, and father of Harold,
Sweno, and Canute. He conquered the realm of England and after driv-
ing Ethelred into Normandy, placed his own son Harold on the throne.
60. Saint Colme’s Inch. This island of St. Columba lies in the Firth
of Forth, a little to the east of Queensferry.
62. Thane of Cawdor. In Holinshed the Thane of Cawdor was con-
demned for treason after Macbeth’s meeting with the Witches.
Act I. Scenr III
2. Killing Swine. Witches were frequently charged with causing the
death of swine and cattle, by casting an evil eye upon them.
7. Aleppo. A city of Asiatic Turkey; the emporium of North Syria,
on the river Koeik, in a plain sixty miles southeast of Alexandretta. Pre-
vious to the great earthquake of 1822 Aleppo contained about one hun-
dred mosques, and was the center of a great import and export trade.
It fell into the possession of the Turks in 1517.
7. Tiger. The name of a vessel.
17. Shipman’s card. Either the navigator’s chart or the com-
pass card on which the 32 points are marked.
24, Cannot be lost. See Introduction, p. 34, § 2 and seq.
38. So foul, etc. The resemblance between this line, and line 11 of
Scene I is intentional, and suggests a connection between Macbeth’s soul
and the souls of the Witches, between the tempted and the tempters.
39. Forres. A town in the county of Nairn. Forres Castle was the
residence of the early Scottish kings. ‘
67. Get kings. Beget kings.
71. Sinel. Thane of Glamis, husband of Doada, and father of Mac-
beth.
72. The Thane of Cawdor lives. Reference is often made to the
seeming contradiction between this statement and that contained in
Se. il, 62-66. This inconsistency is regard by many commentators
as proof that Sc. ii., or at least part of it was not the work of Shakes-
peare. But the inconsistency is apparent rather than real; for Shakes-
peare does not state in the earlier scene that Cawdor was actually present
at the battle, nor is there anything in previous statements tending to
show that Macbeth was at this time aware of the treason of Cawdor or
of his condemnation.
NOTES 153
128. Two truths are told. ‘‘Every word of his soliloquy’’ says Cole-
ridge, ‘‘shows the early birth of his guilt. He is all-powerful, without
strength; he wishes the end but is irresolute as to the means; conscience
distinctly warns him, and he lulls it imperfectly.’’
129. Prologues. The function of the prologue is to give the audience
a clearer understanding of the succeeding drama or some of its acts.
Thus Macbeth speaks of the two truths which the Witches have al-
ready told him as introductions to the more splendid drama, which has
for its subject the gaining of a kingdom.
141. Single state of man. For the sentiment conveyed in these lines,
Cf. Julius Cesar II. i. 67. Single, undivided, united, simple, like the Latin
simplex. Single state of mind, then—humanity or manhood regarded as a
compact whole—as contrasted with the disordered state of man in whom
‘<function is smother’d in surmise.’’ So long as Macbeth’s ‘‘state of
man’’ is ‘‘single,’’ his blood and judgment are properly commingled.
Others take ‘‘single’’ to mean feeble, and ‘‘state of man’’ to be ‘‘the
body politic of man.’’ Another rendering of the phrase is ‘‘the kingdom
of myself.’’
Act I. Scense IV
145. Without my stir. Macbeth does not long remain in this state
of mind.
11. There’s no art. An example of dramatic irony. Duncan unwit-
tingly applies to the Thane of Cawdor words which the audience natur-
ally transfers to the hero.
39. Cumberland. The extreme northwestern county of England. It
first became a portion of England in the reign of William IJ, and was
formed by the addition of a portion of the old English kingdom of York-
shire to the southern part of the old British kingdom of Strathclyde.
42. Inverness. The capital of the county of the same name, and
chief town in the Highlands of Scotland. Boece makes Inverness the
scene of Duncan’s murder. Macbeth’s castle was at Inverness on ‘‘an
eminence called the Crown—so called from having been a royal seat.’’
‘<The whole of the vicinity,’’ says Anderson, ‘<is rich in wild imagery,’’
and answers well to the description of the scene given in I. vi.
Act I. Scenz V
1, They met me. Note that this letter was written by Macbeth
after the battle and his meeting with the Witches, but before his inter-
view with the king. From this we may conclude that he was in constant
communication and close sympathy with his wife.
154 MACBETH
31. Doth seem. Lady Macbeth regards the crown as already ob-
tained.
40. The raven. In the prophecies of the ancient soothsayers, the ery
of the raven was infallibly regarded as an indication of approaching
death.
70. My dispatch. Lady Macbeth proposes to commit the murder
herself.
72. Solely sovereign sway. The figure alliteration.
= Act I. Scene VI
31. By your leave. Duncan here politely offers to conduct Lady
Macbeth into the castle.
Act I. Scene VII
20. Taking off. To shun the use of the term ‘‘murder,’’ Macbeth
and Lady Macbeth employ this mild expression.
22. Cherubim. (Hebrew plural of ‘‘cherub’’.) In the folios the
obsolete plural ‘‘cherubin’’ is used.
43. A coward. Lady Macbeth makes a successful appeal to her
husband’s courage and manhood.
48, Break this enterprise. From this it is evident that Macbeth,
not his wife, first suggested the assassination.
55. Sticking-place. Steevens suggests that the metaphor is taken
‘“from the screwing-up the chords of string instruments to their proper
degree of tension, when the peg remains fast in its sticking-place, i. e. in
the place from which it is not to move.’’
Act II. Scene I
16. Shut up. 1. Is wrapped up in; or 2, has concluded or summed
up all he has to say in expressing his measureless content.
52. Hecate. The name of the queen or mistress of the Witches. In
classical mythology she was originally a moon-goddess, representing the
moon in its invisible phases. She was supposed to preside over all noe-
turnal horrors, to haunt tombs and ecross-roads in company with the spirits
of the dead, and to send nightly phantoms from the lower world.
55. Tarquin. Tarquinius Sextus, son of Tarquinius Superbus, the
Jast of the legendary kings of Rome.
58. The very stones. Cf. St. Luke XIX:40: ‘The stones will ery
out.’” Shakespeare probably alludes to this passage.
NOTES 155
Act II. Scene II
3. The fatal bellman. The Clarendon Press* editors have pointed out
that it was customary for the bellman to visit condemned persons on the
eve of their execution.
59. Neptune. In Roman mythology, the god of the sea, who came to
be identified by the Romans themselves with the Greek Poseidon, whose
attributes were transferred by the poets to the ancient Roman deity.
Act II. Screnz III
5. Beelzebub. (‘‘God of flies.’’) A god of the Philistines who had
a famous temple at Ekron. In the New Testament, the prince of evil
spirits.
15. English tailor. In the Elizabethan Age, it was common for
poets to satirize the English practice of imitating foreign fashions.
17. Roast your goose. A goose, a tailor’s flatiron, so called from the
resemblance of its handle to the neck of a goose.
20. Devil-porter. Acting as porter to the devil. Observe the un-
conscious irony.
22. The primrose way. The broad way that leads to destruction.
40. The night has been unruly. ‘‘That danger, death, or preter-
natural occurrences should be preceded by warnings or intimations, would
appear conformable to the idea of a superintending providence, and
therefore faith in such omens has been indulged in by almost every
nation.’ ’—Drake.t
54. The Lord’s anointed temple. This is a metaphor.
58. Gorgon. In Greek legend a daughter of Phoreys and Ceto,
dwelling in the Western Ocean near Night and Hesperides (or in Libya).
60. Ring the alarum-bell. A natural means for bringing in at once
the other characters and hurrying the scene forward. Lady Macbeth
makes the mistake of coming upon the scene too quickly. This may sug-
gest to the others the after thought that she was not asleep in bed at
the time of the murder. Banquo has already told us that he has lately
been struggling against the temptations that beset him in his sleep;
hence, it is natural that he should speedily arrive upon the scene. Mal-
colm and Donalbain, who occupy the chamber adjoining that of the king,
* Clarendon Press. A printing establishment in Oxford, Bngland, in which
the university has the preponderating influence, It was founded partly with
profits from the copyright of Clarendon’s History of the Rebellion.
+ See footnote, p. 25.
156 MACBETH
are evidently asleep when the bell rings, and are the last to respond to
its summons.
104. Help me hence. There is no obvious reason for suspecting that
Lady Macbeth’s swoon is not genuine. Macbeth in the excitement of
the moment, and borne up by the necessity of acting, is able to paint
the picture of Duncan with ‘‘his silver skin laced with golden blood,’’
and by his side the ‘‘murderers steep’d in the colours of their trade;’’
but Lady Macbeth has reached the limit of her endurance. Her strength
lies in her power to resist the horrible and painful thoughts that occa-
sionally seek entrance to her mind; but when Macbeth sketches the
gruesome picture of the murdered Duncan her strength gives way and
she faints.
Act II. Scenz IV
26. Stol’n away and fled. The flight of the king’s sons is one of the
several incidents which contribute toward the success of Macbeth’s
schemes during the first half of the play.
31. Scone. The ancient royal city of Scotland. The place of corona-
tion. The present Scone Palace, a modern building, is a seat of the Earl
of Mansfield.
33. Colme-kill. The word means ‘‘the cell or chapel of St. Columba,
who landed on this island (better known as Iona) in 563 to preach
Christianity. The Scottish kings were buried there.
Act III. Scenr I
56. Cesar. Octavius Cesar, afterwards the Emperor Augustus.
87. Are you so gospell’d. This seems to be a reference to the
Sermon on the Mount.
129. The perfect spy 0’ the time. Some editors think that ““nerfect
spy’’ refers to the Third Murderer who later joins the other two. Pref-
erably, however, ‘‘perfect spy’’ means the result of ““perfect spying or
observation. ’’
Act III. Scene II
38. Nature’s copy. Some editors take this to mean ‘‘man formed in
the image of God;’’ but it is more likely to be simply an example
of Shakespeare’s knowledge of legal phraseology.
41. Black Hecate’s summons. See Note; LER ya iu
49. That great bond. ‘‘The bond by which Banquo and his son
Fleance hold their tenure of life.’’
52. Good things. See the quotation from Professor Dowden, on p. 26.
NOTES 157
ere nn er ne
Act III. Scrnz IIT
Third Murderer. Some critics assert that this was Macbeth in dis-
guise. It may be that he was suspicious of the two murderers, and to
‘‘make assurance double sure’? of Banquo’s death, was present himself.
7. Timely. (1) Soon attained; (2) welcome; or, (3) in time.
Aot III. Scanz IV
27. Twenty trenched gashes. Cf. the ‘‘twenty mortal murders”’ of
line 82. Sherman takes this ‘‘unsightly mutilation’’ as evidence that the
Third Murderer was Macbeth himself.
Enter the ghost of Banquo and sits (stage dir.) Did Shakespeare
intend that Banquo’s ghost should be exhibited to the audience? The
point has long been doubted, some maintaining that the appearance of the
ghost was necessary for stage effect; others claiming that no such ap-
pearance would be required to influence the audience, so long as they
perceived the effect of the apparition on Macbeth.
102. Hyrcan. An adjective formed from Hyrcania, a region in Asia,
which bordered on the Caspian Sea, and the Oxus. It corresponded in
part to northern and northeastern Persia.
123. Blood will have blood. It was believed by many in Shake-
speare’s time that a murdered body bled upon the approach or touch of
the murderer.
124, Trees to speak. Like the tree in Virgil’s Alneid, III, that bied
and revealed to Auneas the murderer of Polydorus.
134. To the weird sisters. Macbeth’s seeking the Witches, who at
first sought him, is a proof that he has fallen from grace.
142, You lack. ‘‘In the moment of crisis Lady Macbeth had used
roughness to rouse her husband; when the courtiers are gone she is all
tenderness. She utters not a word of reproach; perhaps she is herself
exhausted by the strain she has gone through; more probably the
womanly solicitude for the physical sufferer thinks only how to procure
for her husband ‘the season of all natures, sleep.’ ’’—Moulton.*
Aor III. Scmnr V
1. Hecate. Upon the introduction of Christianity into Greece, the
old classical deities were lowered to the positions of demons. Hecate,
who under the old system had reigned supreme in the nether regions,
* See footnote, p. 44.
158 MACBETH
under the new, was invested with a preéminently diabolic character, and
so she came to be regarded as the patroness of sorcery and witchcraft.
15. Acheron. In classical mythology, a river in Hades, and later, in
the Lower World in general.
Act III. Scene VI
1. My former speeches. ‘‘Under the bitter irony of this speech,’’
says Moulton,* ‘‘we can see clearly enough that Macbeth has been ex-
posed by a series of suspicious acts; he has done all things well; and in
particular by peculiar resemblances between this last incident of Banquo
and Fleance and the previous incident of Duncan and his son. It appears
then that Macbeth’s last successful crime proves the means by which
retribution overtakes all his other crimes; the latter half of the play is
needed to develop the steps of the retribution, but, in substance, Mac-
beth’s fall is latent in the final step of his rise.’’
27. Most pious Edward. From Holinshed we learn that ‘‘Saint
Edward . . . received Malcolme by way of most friendlie entertain-
ment.’’
Act IV. Scene I
3. Harpier. Very likely the term ‘‘Harpier’’ is a corruption of
harpy, a monster of ancient mythology, with the face of a woman and
the body of a bird of prey. In classical mythology the harpy symbolizes
eruelty and deceit.
16. Blind-worm’s sting. The belief still exists in many countries
that the blind-worm is venomous.
23. Mummy. At one time mummy was used for medicinal purposes.
29, Tartar. A term usually applied to certain roving tribes which
inhabited the steppes of Central Asia.
93. Birnam. Birnam Hill, northeast of Perth, about twelve miles
from Dunsinane.
Dunsinane. One of the Sidlaw hills of Scotland, altitude 1,012 feet.
Hight Kings. (Stage dir.) James I. of England and his ancestors.
121. Two-fold balls and treble sceptres. The ‘‘two-fold balls’’ refer
to King James’ double coronation, first at Stirling, and afterwards at
Westminster. The ‘‘treble sceptres’’ symbolize the three kingdoms of
England and Wales, Scotland, and Ireland (or possibly Great Britain,
France, and Ireland).
130, Antic round. According to Ben Jonson, the witches’ manner
of dancing was: ‘‘They at their meetings do all things contrary to
pa ee eee Se ae ob eae he SN
* See footnote, p. 44.
NOTES 159
the custom of men, dancing back to back, and hip to hip, their hands
joined, and making their circles backward, to the left hand, with strange
fantastic motions of their heads and bodies.’’
Act IV. Scrne IIL
Macduff’s Castle. (Stage dir.) ‘‘On the Fifeshire Coast, about
three miles from Dysart, stand two quadrangular towers, supposed to be
the ruins of Macduff’s Castle.’ ’—Knight.*
17. I dare not. Very likely Ross means that he dare not yet make
known the plans of himself, Macduff, and others.
Act IV. Scene III
34. The title is affeer’d. The original text reads as follows: ‘‘The
title is affear’d,’’ and the explanation of the passage, if this reading be
accepted, will be, ‘‘ Malcolm, personifying the regal title, is afeard,’’ 1. e.
afraid to claim what rightly belongs to him.
128. Chance of goodness. Goodness here means ‘‘virtue.’’
138. The evil. Scrofula was formerly known in England as ‘‘ King’s
evil,’’ from the belief that the touch of a sovereign could effect a cure.
Shakespeare may have found authority for the passage in Holinshed’s
description of Edward the Confessor, who ‘‘was enspired with the
gift of Prophecie,’’ and who ‘‘used to help those that were vexed with the
disease commonly called the Kyng’s evill, and left that vertue as it were
a portion of inheritance unto his successors the Kings of the Realme.’’
145. A golden stamp. Heny VII. introduced the practice of pre-
senting the person touched, with a small gold or silver coin, called a
touch-piece.
188. Fee-grief. In English law fee means an ‘‘estate descendable to
the heirs of the guarantee so long as there are any in existence.’’ Fee-
grief is an estate which ‘‘belongs to the holder and to him alone.’’
2°08. He has no children. Many critics think that this refers to
Macbeth, in which case Macduff is lamenting that he is unable to inflict
punishment upon the tyrant which will be in proportion to his own
suffering. But more probably these words are Macduff’s reply to Mal-
colm’s speech immediately preceding. It is as though Macduff were to
say, ‘‘It is easy for you who have no children, to talk of comfort and
of curing this deadly grief.’’
* See footnote, p. 26.
160 MACBETH
Act V. ScENE I
57. Arabia, A vast peninsula, southwest of Asia. It is famous for
its many aromatic spices.
65. This disease is beyond my practice. In the Middle Ages very
little attention was paid to the treatment of insanity. It was not until
about 1750 that the condition of the insane began to attract attention in
England.
Act V. Scene Il
8. Epicures. During the reign of James I. intemperance in eating
and drinking was a characteristic of the English people.
14. Patch. A clown: so called from his multi-colored, or motley
dress.
23. Old age. These lines contain the only suggestion conveyed by
Shakespeare of any considerable lapse of time since the opening scene
of the play. In Holinshed, Macbeth’s reign extended from A. D. 1040 to
AS D> 1057.
Act V. ScenE IV
18, Shall. The word has here no future significance, but is used out
of courtesy to Malcolm, and has the sense of ‘‘may.’’
Act V. ScENE V
8. The cry of women. This is, of course, the cry made by the
servants of Lady Macbeth, when they discover the death of the queen.
17. She should have died hereafter. We are not to understand from
this line and the next, that Macbeth has lost his love for his wife. But
we should rather see in them an intimation of the feeling within him
that his own death is approaching. ‘‘She could not live after his death,
and his own ‘hour upon the stage’ is almost ended. But she might
have waited for him.’’
Act V. Scrne VI
2. Worthy uncle. Siward, Earl of Northumberland.
Act V. Scene VII
1. Tied me to a stake. The metaphor is from the barbarous sport of
bear baiting, a popular diversion in the time of Elizabeth.
29. Strike beside us. This might mean ‘‘fight on our side,’’ refer-
ring to the deserters from Macbeth’s army.
NOTES 161
Act V. ScEnrE VIII
1. The Roman fool. Cato, Brutus, Cassius, Antony, and many other
characters in, or alluded to in Shakespeare’s Roman plays, died by their
own hands. At certain periods in the history of Rome it was considered
a virtue to avoid death or defeat by committing suicide.
14, Angel. The word was at one time used in a bad as well as in
a good sense.
54. Hail, King! Holinshed relates that Macbeth ‘‘was slaine in
yeere of the incarnation, 1057, and in the 16 yeare of King Edward’s
reigne ower the Englishmen.’’
GRAMMATICAL NOTES
On reading the works of Elizabethan authors we wonder at the many
points of difference in grammar and meaning between their English and
the English of today. Yet, there is really no cause for surprise. The great
‘<renascence’’ had just taken place, and the ancient classics were being
studied in England as they had never before been studied. Changes in
structure and meaning in the language of Chaucer were demanded and
introduced, but as old prejudices die hard the result for a time was chaos.
Neither the devotees of the old forms nor the advocates of the new
would give way, so both reigned, but neither was supreme. Language is
given to interpret thought, and the result of the conflict between the old
and the new was a language clear in thought but doubtful in expression.
Such must be the conditions in all transitional periods. Hence, though the
Elizabethan English differs in many respects from the English of today, it
was and is intelligible. The change from the old forms through the Eliza-
bethan English to our present forms was slow indeed, but changes that are
to endure are not wrought in a generation.
In this may be found the raison d’étre of the so-called grammatical
difficulties of Shakespeare. Besides, in those days printed books were less
common than they are now, and even today spoken language is frequently
less grammatical than that which is written.
ADJECTIVES USED AS ADVERBS
Duncan hath borne his faculties so meek (I. vii. 17). Meekly.
Who dares receive it other (I. vii. 70). Otherwise.
Which else should free have wrought (II. i. 19). Freely.
Which the false man does easy (II. iii. 123). Easily.
Lest our old robes sit easier than our new (II. iv. 38). More easily.
Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill (III. ii. 55). Badly.
But yet I’ll make assurance double sure (IV. i. 83). Doubly.
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air (V. viii. 9). Easily. :
I would the friends we miss were safe arrived (V. viii. 35). Safely.
ADJECTIVES USED as Nouns
All that impedes thee from the golden round (I. v. 30). Crown.
The blanket of the dark (I. v. 55). Darkness.
162
GRAMMATICAL NOTES 163
Those sleepy two (I. vii. 68). That sleepy pair.
Against my near’st of life (III. i. 117). Inmost part.
Protest their first of manhood (V. ii. 11). First proof.
ADJECTIVES TRANSPOSED
That seems to speak things strange (I. ii. 46).
I have seen hours dreadful and things strange (II. iv. 2).
To the direction just (III. i. 4).
Days and nights has thirty one (IV. i. 7).
Gracious my lord (V. v. 30).
Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased (V. ili. 39).
DouBLE COMPARATIVE
Lesser than Macbeth and greater (I. iii. 65). See V. ii. 13.
Nouns AND PRoNouUNS USED AS ADVERBS
That, trusted home (I. iii. 121).
All-thing unbecoming (III. i. 13).
Something from the palace (III. i. 131).
We doubt it nothing (V. iv. 2).
Beat them backward home (V. v. 7)
ADVERBS USED AS ADJECTIVES
Before thy here-approach (IV. iii. 125).
Since my here-remain in England (IV. iii. 140).
DouBLE NEGATIVE
Nor must be known no less to have done so (I. iv. 31).
Tongue, nor heart cannot conceive nor name thee (II. iii. 51).
Who cannot want the thought (III. vi. 8). Want means ‘‘not have.’?
OMISSION OF THE INDEFINITE ARTICLE
Surveying (an) vantage (I. ii. 30).
Were (a) poor and single business (I. vi. 16).
As if it... yell’d out like (a) syllable of dolour (IV. iii. 7).
Here, from gracious England have I (an) offer (IV. iii. 43).
OMISSION OF THE DEFINITE ARTICLE
Let us speak our free hearts each to (the) (I. iii. 156).
Never shall (the) sun that morrow see (1. v. 63).
164 MACBETH
We have lost (the) best half of our affair (III. iii. 22).
I’ll catch it ere it come to (the) ground (III. v. 25)
INSERTION OF THE INDEFINITE ARTICLE
Their drenchéd natures lie as in a death (I. vii. 63).
There’s not @ one of them (III. iv. 132).
OMISSION OF THE CoNJUNCTION If
As ’twere a careless trifle (I. iv. 11).
Who, were’t so, would have informed (lI. y. 34).
As they had seen me with these hangman’s hands (Tia 2s
Go not my horse the better (IIT. i. 25).
I am so much a fool, should I stay longer (IV. ii. 28).
ABsTRAcT Nouns USED IN THE PLURAL
This sore night hath trifled former knowings (II. iv. 3).
Whose loves I may not drop (III. i. 121).
Let not my jealousies be your dishonours (EY. ui. 29%;
The taints and blames I laid upon myself (IV. iii. 117),
Revenges burn in them (V. ii. 3).
Before we reckon with your several loves CV¥a-viii- 6 Le
ABSTRACT FOR CONCRETE
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible to feeling (II. i. 36).
Listening their fear (II. ii. 28).
The expedition of my violent love (II. iii. 96).
And when we have our naked frailties hid (II. iii, 112).
Filling their hearers with strange invention (III. i. 32).
Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits (IV. i. 144),
Nouns as ADJECTIVES
Our bosom interest (I. ii. 63).
The primrose way (II. iii. 22).
You secret, black, and midnight hags (IV. i. 47).
Where gott’st thou that goose look (V. iii. 11).
Those linen cheeks of thine (V. aii. 15).
Nouns as VERBS
Their hands and faces were all badged with blood (II. iii. 88).
Uproar the universal peace (IV. iii. 92),
To dew the sovereign flower GVieaies0).
I sheath again undeeded (V. vii.-20);
this
GRAMMATICAL NOTES
PREPOSITIONS FREQUENTLY INTERCHANGED
165
The merciless Macdonwald...of kerns and gallowglasses is sup-
plied (I. ii. 9). With.
Have we eaten on the insane root (I. iii. 84). Of.
In his commendations I am fed (I. iv. 55). On.
These deeds must not be thought after these ways (II. ii. 33).
way.
Which in his death were perfect (III. i. 107). On or with.
Weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune (III. i. 111). By.
I must not for certain friends (III. i. 120). On account of.
Pity for mischance (III. iv. 43). On account of.
Impostors to true fear (III. iv. 64). Compared with.
Ts received of the most pious Edward (III. vi. 27). By.
With worms and flies (IV. ii. 32). On.
They were all struck for thee (IV. iii. 217). On account of.
Shall e’er have power upon thee (V. iii. 7). Over.
Forced with those that should be ours (V. v. 5). Reinforced by.
Supp’d full with horrors (V. v. 13). On.
ProNouNS INTERCHANGED (‘‘His’’ For Its)
Wither’d murder, alarum’d by his sentinel, the wolf (GOK ae GE))e
Treason has done his worst (III. ii. 24).
Bid the tree unfix his earth-bound root (IV. i. 95).
PERSONAL PRONOUNS USED REFLEXIVELY
Pall thee in the dunnest smoke (I. v. 53).
And address’d them again to sleep (II. ii. 24).
Hold thee still (III. ii. 54).
Let every soldier hew him down a bough (V. iv. 4).
Then yield thee, coward (V. viii. 23).
Before we .. . make ws even with you (V. viii. 62).
OMISSION OF THE RELATIVE PRONOUN
And the very ports (on which) they blow (Qi, anbk, 2153)
There’s one (who) did laugh in’s sleep (II. ii, 22).
Who was’t (who) came by (IV. i. 140).
Than any (that) is in hell (V. Wally 1)
Those (whom) he commands move only in command (V. ii. 19).
In
166 MACBETH
‘“WHIcH’’ FoR Who
The slave; which ne’er shook hands (LI. ii. 20).
It was he, in the times past, which held you (III. i. 76).
I have known those which have walked in their sleep (V. i. 66).
‘“WHO’’ FoR Whom
Who I myself struck down (III. i. 122).
Who may I rather challenge for unkindness (III. iy. 42).
The dead man’s knell is there scarce asked for who (IV. iii. 163).
OMISSION OF ANTECEDENT
Who was the thane, lives yet (I. iii. 109).
Who dares do more, is none (I. vii. 47).
And hums, as who should say (III. vi. 42).
But who knows nothing (IV. iii. 159).
“(THE WHICH’’ FoR Which
To the which my duties (III. i. 16).
The which no sooner had his prowess confirm’d (V. viii. 41).
ARCHAIC PARTICIPIAL VERB ForMS
He shall live a man forbid (I. iii. 21).
I have spoke (I. iv. 3). See IV. iii. 11, and V. i. 53.
His great love hath holp him (LI. vi. 23).
Hath so exasperate the king (III. vi. 38).
Grease that’s sweaten (IV. i. 64).
The flighty purpose never is o’ertook (IV. i. 145).
I have almost forgot the taste of fears C¥e we 8).
Painted upon a pole and underwrit (V. viii. 26).
‘*Br’’ For Are
And be all traitors that do so (IV. ii. 48).
A Form or ‘‘Br’’ ror Have
Whether he was combined with those of Norway (I. iii, 113}.
Are not those in commission yet returned CTogivs, Lae
They are not yet come back (lI. iv. 3).
The king’s two sons are stol’n away and fled (II. iv. 26).
GRAMMATICAL NOTES 167
Fleance is ’seaped (III. iv. 20).
I am in blood stepp’d in so far (III. iv. 137).
Macduff is fled to England (IV. i. 142).
I would the friends we miss were safe arrived (V. Vili. 35).
INTRANSITIVE VERBS USED TRANSITIVELY
Listening their fear (II. ii. 28).
I have almost slipp’d the hour (II. iii. 33).
Palaces and pyramids do slope their heads (IV. i. 56).
To make him fly the land (IV. ii. 1).
Wretched souls that stay his cure (IV. iii. 133).
Sundry blessings that speak him full of grace (IV. iii, 151).
Each minute teems a new one (IV. iii. 168).
Hang alive till famine cling thee (V. v. 40).
Despair thy charm (V. viii. 13).
‘“¢May’?’ For Can, ‘‘Micut’’ ror Could
We might have met them dareful (V. v. 6).
Within this three mile may you see it coming (V. v. 37).
As easy mayst thou the intrenchant air with thy keen sword impress
(VW. vill. 9).
OMISSION OF VERB
Let us toward the king (I. iii. 153). Supply go.
Good repose the while (II. i. 29). Supply may you have.
Well contented (II. iii. 120). Supply we are.
The near in blood, the nearer bloody (II. iii. 126). Supply a man 1s.
Therefore to horse (II. iii. 129). Supply let us get.
And wisdom to offer up a weak poor innocent lamb (IV. iit, 15) Sup-
ply it may be.
T’ll none of it (V. iii. 46). Supply have.
Thy story quickly (V. v. 29). Supply tell.
‘¢QpatL’?? AND ‘‘SHOULD’’ FOR Will ann Would
So should he look (I. ii. 45).
Do you not hope your children shall be kings (I. iii. 119).
We love him highly, and shall continue our graces (1. vi. 30).
Whereto the rather shall his day’s hard journey soundly invite him
(1. vii. 57).
You shall offend him (III. iv. 57).
They should find what ’twere to kill a father (III. vi. 19).
168 MACBETH
TT hw
SINGULAR VERB WITH PLURAL SUBJECT
Time and the hour runs through the roughest day (I. iii. 148).
The service and the loyalty I owe pays itself (I. iv. 23).
Fate and metaphysical aid doth seem (I. vy. 31).
What is your tidings (I. y. 33).
Words to the heat of deeds too cool breath gives (II. i. 61).
Renown and grace is dead (II. iii. 80).
The mere lees is left this vault to brag of (II. iii. 82).
There’s daggers in men’s smiles (II. iii. 126).
*Tis two or three that bring you word (IV. i. 141),
The means that makes us strangers (IV. iii. 156).
There is ten thousand (V. iii. 12).
VERSIFICATION
The ordinary line in blank verse consists of five feet of two syllables
each, the second syllable in each foot being accented.
The Kin’g | hath ha’p | pil’y | recei’ved, | Mache’th,
The ne’ws | of th’y | succe’ss; | and wh’en | he re’ads
Thy pe’rs | (o)nal ve’n| ture i’n|the re’b| els’ fi’ght,
His wo’n | ders an’d| his pra’is|es do’ | conte’nd. I. iii. 89.
But as this line is too monotonous and formal for frequent use, the
meter is varied, sometimes by changing the position of the accent, and
sometimes by introducing trisyllabic and monosyllabic feet. It must not
be thought that all accented syllables receive the same stress. In lines
quoted above the syllables ly in (1), thy in (2), im in (3), and in (4)
are defective in accent, i.e., are feebly stressed.
The position of the accent is frequently changed. The inversion of the
aecent (trochee) is most frequent at the beginning of a line, but it occurs
also, not uncommonly, after a pause in another part of the line.
Mor’e is | thy du’e | than mo’re | than a’ll| can pa’y. I. iv. 21.
An’gels | are br’ight | still, thou’gh | the brig’ht | est fell. IV. iu. 22.
The trochee after a stop in the middle of a line is seen in—
No’t cast | asi’de | so so’on. | Wa's the | hope dru’nk. I. vil. 35.
Fee’d and | rega’rd | him no’t. | Ar’e you |a man? III. iv. 58.
The trochee is occasionally found, not following a pause.
The ey’e | wi’nk at | the han’d | yet le’t | that b’e. I. iv. 52.
An extra syllable is frequently added before a pause, especially at the
end of a line.
But the | Norwey | an lord, | survey | ing vant | age. 16, be Gkb)
Is this|a dag | ger which | I see | before|me? II. i. 33.
In twenty-five lines in Macbeth the superfluous syllable oceurs after the
second foot, e. g.:
Give me | the dag | gers: | the sleep | ing and | the dead. II. ii. 52.
169
170 MACBETH
In thirty-two it occurs after the third foot, e. g.:
Wake Dun | can with | thy knock | ing! | I would | thou couldst! IT. ii. 73.
To plague | the inven | tor: | this ev |en-hand|ed just |ice. I. vii. 10.
Such extra syllables are called double (or feminine) endings, and they
afford a useful indication of the approximate date of the play. Speaking
generally, if the double endings are rare (e. g. 9 in Love’s Labour’s Lost,
1588) we may infer that the play is of early date; if frequent, that the play
belongs to Shakespeare’s later period (e. g. 726 in Cymbeline, 1610-12).
In Macbeth there are, according to Mr. Fleay, 399 lines with feminine
endings.
Two extra syllables are sometimes allowed, if unemphatic, before a
pause, especially at the end of a line, thus giving the appearance of an
Alexandrine.
And last|the hear|ty wel|come. Thanks|t(o) your ma| jesty.
IIT. iv. 2.
Unaccented monosyllables. Provided there be only one accented syllable
there may be more than two syllables in any foot, e. g.:
What a haste | looks through | his eyes! | So should | he look. I. ii. 45.
Accented monosyllables. Sometimes an unemphatic monosyllable (such
as a, and, at, for, in, of, the, to) is allowed to stand in an emphatic place, and
to receive an accent. When it oceurs at the end of the line it is called
a ‘weak ending.’’? Weak endings appear for the first time in considerable
numbers in Macbeth, and hardly at all in Shakespeare’s earlier plays.
He hath | been in | unus | ual | pleas | ure and. II. i, 13.
Syllables slurred or omitted. Many syllables which we now pronounce
might formerly be omitted in pronunciation. Many lines apparently irregu-
lar may be reduced to regularity on this principle of slurring, e. g.: if we
contract ‘‘God be with you’’ into the familiar good-bye we are able to scan.
Till sup | per time | alone: | while then | God be with you. III. i. 43.
The commonest elisions are ’d for ed, ’s for is or for us, or for his, st
for est, ll for will, ’ld for would, ’It for wilt, ’rt for art, ’t for it or for
to, o’er for over, ei’r for either, whe’r for whether, o’ for of, i’ for in,
th’ for thee. Other words occurring in the play, in which a vowel sound
must be slurred or elided, are cer’mony, warr’nted, nour’sher, tyr’nny, ver’ty,
corp’ral, discov’ry, temp’rance, persev’rance, gen’ral, moment’ry, conf ’rence,
ev’ry, murd’rous, ete. See Mayor’s ‘“English Metre,’’ (156-9).
VERSIFICATION 171
Lengthening of words. Many words are given an additional syllable in
pronunciation, e. g.:
The new | est state. | This is | the ser | ge-ant. I. ii. 3.
Let your | remem | b-e-rance | apply |to Ban(quo). III. ii. 30.
The termination -ion is frequently pronounced as two syllables, e. g.:
Which smoked | with blood | y ex|ecu| tion. I. ii. 17,
The ed of past participles is frequently pronounced as a separate sylla-
ble even where the e is usually mute. As such words are accented in the text,
the student .will readily find examples.
Monosyllables are drawn out in pronounciation so as to serve as a foot,
or are pronounced as dissyllables. This generally happens where the letter r
follows a long vowel, e. g.:
Smells woo | ingly | he-re: | no jut | ty, frieze. i, Waly
I dreamt | last night | of the | three we | ird sist |ers. II. i. 20.
Alexandrines containing six pronounced accents are rare in Shakespeare,
and are most commonly found in lines divided between different speakers.
The vict | (o)ry fell] on us. | Great hap | piness! | That now. I. ii. 57.
And she | goes down | at twelve. | I tak(e) (1)t, | tis lat | er, sir. II.i. 3.
An Alexandrine is occasionally found with a feminine ending.
The queen |my lord|is dead. | She should | have died |here af | ter.
AUG Aige Mae
The number of lines which might be taken as Alexandrines is unusually
large in Macbeth. But many of these are only:
Apparent Alexandrines, which can be reduced to five-foot lines by the
omission of unemphatic syllables.
T’ll come | t(0) yo(u) anon. | We are | resolved |my lord. III. i. 138.
Put on | th(eir) inst(ru)ments. |Receive | what cheer |you may. IV.
iii. 231.
The num | bers of | our host | and make | discov(e)ry. V. iv. 6.
Short lines. The number of short lines in Macbeth is exceptionally
as many editors think, to corruption in the text. We
only four, three, or even two accents. The verse
‘¢when witches or other extraor-
great, and may be due,
find single lines containing
with four accents is often used, with rhyme
dinary beings are introduced as speaking.’’—Abbott.*
* Abbott, Edwin, born at London, 1838S. An English clergyman and educator.
172 MACBETH
Do’uble, | do’uble | to’il and | tro’uble,
Fire | bu’rn and | cauldron | bu’bble. IV. i. 20.
Single lines with three or two accents are most frequent at the begin-
ning and end of a speech.
As thi’s| which no’w|I draw. II. i. 41.
Shall har’m | Maeb’eth. IV. i. 81.
The pause in such cases may usually be filled up with action, and is
sometimes to be explained by the haste or excitement of the speaker.
Proper names. The same name is not always pronounced-in the same
way in Shakespeare; thus Glamis appears to be a monosyllable in I. iii. 116.
Where it occurs at the end of a line, as in I. iii. 48, 71, it may be pro-
nounced as either a monosyllable or a dissyllable. Elsewhere it is a dis-
syllable.
Dunsinane has the proper Scotch pronunciation, i. e. is accented on the
second syllable in IV. i. 93. Elsewhere it is accented on the third syllable.
Hecate, contrary to classical usage, is pronounced as a dissyllable.
Macbeth is accented on the first syllable in IV. i. 126, as is also Macduff
nity JOU. yal, 88h
Accent. Many words are accented otherwise than at present.
And cha’s | tise with | the val | our of |my tongue. I. vy. 29.
So we find also acce’ss, I. v. 46; pu’rveyor, I. vi. 22; o’bseure, II. iii.
45; ma/nkind, II. iv. 18; ba’boon, IV. i. 36; co’njure, IV. i. 49; sometime’,
IV. ii. 76; perse’verance, IV. iii. 86; almo’st, V. vy. 9, Veavitsais
Rhyme. For a play written as late as Macbeth is supposed to have been
(1606), the proportion of rhyming lines is large. Most of these, however,
are introduced with a special purpose. Thus the Witches generally speak
in rhyme that the language of the supernatural beings may differ from that
of the ordinary characters of the play. In other cases rhyme occurs most
frequently at the end of a scene, to indicate—in the absence of scenery and
a drop-curtain—that the scene is concluded. At other times rhyme is em-
ployed by Shakespeare (1) to convey general moralizing reflections, and
(2) to denote a climax, especially at the end of a speech. The meter of most
of the rhyming couplets used by the Witches is trochaie, and is often truncated
(i. e. it lacks a final, unstressed syllable), but we frequently find iambie
lines interspersed with the trochaic, e. g.:
Thri’ce to | thi‘ne, and | thri’ce to | mi‘ne,
And thri’ce | agai’n, | to ma’ke | up ni’ne. I. iii, 35.
VERSIFICATION 173
The speech of Hecate, III. v., is iambie throughout.
And you’ | all kno’w | seeu’r | ity
Is mor’ | tals’ chi’ef | est e’n|emy’. III. v. 32.
Prose is used in comie and domestic scenes where it is desired to lower
the dramatic pitch, as in II. iii., IV. ii., and V. i. It is also used for letters,
as in I. v.
Meter as an indication of date. To the most casual reader of the play
it will be evident that Macbeth contains a large proportion of irregular
lines. From the irregularities it may be inferred that the play does not
belong to Shakespeare’s early period of composition.
A comparison of the play with other plays of known date belonging to
earlier and later periods reveals the following facts. The figures are
taken from Fleay’s Shakespeare Manual.
@ he
we OES
eae eh
Lo} 2 eo safe $ ua
z 5 Ee ee a8
£ b 3 =| 5 veo lanl
Aa 2 es ae Z3
1st Period, Richard II....... 1593-4 537 148 99 2641
2d Period, Henry V.......-- 1599 101 291 52 3320
3d Period, Macbeth.......... 1606 118 399 105 1993
TNC TUDES Venere rene 1610 2 476 81 2068
4th Period, Cymbeline....... 1610-12 ha: 726 116 3448
The large proportion of short lines may be due to the fact that we
possess the play in a mutilated form. It is also thought that many of the
rhyme-tags which occur at the ends of scenes are the work of another than
Shakespeare. If these possibilities be taken into consideration, then the
metrical test will lead us to the same conclusion, with respect to the date,
as that at which we arrived upon other grounds (Introduction, p. 21-24),
viz., that the play was composed in the year 1606.
VARIANTS AND PROPOSED EMENDATIONS.
A few only of the more important are given. Other teadings will be
found in the Clarendon Press edition, to which we have occasionally referred.
I. ii.20-1. For which Pope reads who, Capell and. For shook hand,
slack’d hands has been suggested.
I. ii, 15. For very, Johnson conjectured various; for ports, Pope reads
points,
iii. 97. Hail and came are Rowe’s emendations for tale and can.
vi. 4. Martlet is Rowe’s emendation of Bartlet.
vi. 5. Mansionry is Theobald’s emendation of mansonry. Pope
suggested masonry.
I. vii. 6. Shoal is Theobald’s emendation of school.
Do more is Rowe’s emendation of no more. For beast Col-
lier suggests boast.
a
2:
i
~_
II. i. 14. For offices Rowe proposed officers.
II. i. 51. For sleep various commentators have proposed sleeper.
II. i. 55. Strides is Pope’s emendation of sides.
II. i. 57. Way they walk is Rowe’s emendation of they may walk.
III. i. 129. With the perfect spy o’ the time. Johnson changed the to
a; Tyrwhitt proposed the perfect spot, the time; Col-
lier, Acquaint you with a perfect spy, o’ the time. The
Clarendon Press edition, the perfect’st spy, or the per-
fect’st eye.
III. ii.. 20. Gain our peace. So the First folio. The Second folio, fol-
lowed by Dyce, Singer, and Staunton, print place.
UI. iv. 106. If trembling I inhabit. Pope read inhibit ; Theobald, me
inhibit; Pope, I inhibit thee. Other conjectures are I ez-
hibit and I inherit and I inhabit here.
IV. i. 97. Rebellion’s head is Theobald’s conjecture for Rebellion’s
dead. Another suggestion is Rebellious dead.
174
IV.
ie
iii.
ill.
iii.
VARIANTS 175
22.
83.
15.
Each way and move. Theobald proposed Hach way and
wave; Steevens, And each way move; Staunton Hach sway
and move; Daniels, Hach way it moves.
Shag-hair’d is Steevens’ emendation of shag-ear’d.
Deserve is Warburton’s emendation of discerne. For and
wisdom Hammer reads ’tis wisdom; Staunton, and wisdom
tis or and wisdom bids. The Clarendon Press edition
suggests that a whole line may here have dropped out.
Is shut, Rowe’s emendation of are shut.
Steevens first put disseat for dis-eate. The Second folio
reads disease. Bishop Perey suggested chair for cheer.
For way of life Johnson proposed May of life.
Stuff’d ... stuff. ‘‘Pope read full for stuff’d. Others
have conjectured foul, clogg’d, fraught, press’d. Others
retaining stuff’d would alter stuff to grief, or matter, or
slough, or freight.’’—Clarendon Press Edition.
CAUTIONS AND HINTS FOR PARAPHRASING
1. Do not mistake the meaning of ‘‘to paraphrase.’’ It is not to put
into other words the words of a passage, but to put into your own words
the meaning of that passage.
2. Read, several times, the passage to be paraphrased, and be quite
sure you have seized the general sense before attempting to write anything.
3. Put nothing down of which you do not know the meaning. If you do
not understand what you write you may be sure no one else will.
4. If you use a dictionary (to be avoided as much as possible) make sure
you understand the meaning selected for any given word, and that it
‘‘fits in’’ with the rest of your rendering.
5. It is better to write nothing than to put down unintelligible rubbish.
6. In paraphrasing poetry or condensed prose (such as Bacon’s) it is
generally necessary to amplify in order to bring out the full meaning,
i. e. your version ought to be longer than the original.
7. Do not turn into the third person what has been expressed in the
first person, and especially do not change from the one to the other without
good reason.
8. Change the order of words, or even sentences, as much as you please
ao long as you preserve the meaning of the passage.
9. Maintain the spirit and general character of the composition as far as
possible. If you know the context of the extract, that knowledge should
help you to express yourself appropriately. If you do not know the con-
text, imagine a setting for the extract; this will help you to make your
meaning clear.
10. Do not use a greater number of words than is necessary to convey
your meaning, and use the simplest words you can to express your thought.
EXAMPLES
The student should realize that many paraphrases of the same matter,
differing widely from one another, may be equally good and equally accept-
able. We have, therefore, in the following examples given two versions of
one passage, showing different methods of treatment.
1. Paraphrase Macbeth’s soliloquy commencing, ‘‘If it were done when
*tis done,’’ I, vii. 1-28.
176
CAUTIONS FOR PARAPHRASING 177
Could the mere execution of what I am about finally close the matter,
then the sooner it were done the better. If the assassination held within
itself the power to grasp success only and intercept all the other natural
results of crime; if this one deadly stroke might be at once the committal
and the result of the deed in this life, where we are bound on the shallow
of time, we would risk whatever might overtake us in the full flood of
eternity. But in these cases we always suffer the consequences in this life;
and if we practice bloody deeds they will recoil upon us, for justice, with
impartiality, decrees that he who administers the cup of bitterness to another
shall himself drink of the dregs.
His having come here to rest raises obstacles in my course; my kinship
and allegiance form one strong barrier, the sacred duty of hospitality
another. Instead of harming his guest, the host ought jealously to guard
his safety. Moreover, this Duncan has been so humble and just a king,
that his goodness will appear as angelic witness against the infamy of his
murder. The very blasts of heaven will be charged with pity—pure, inno-
cent, helpless pity—and all the powers that speed at heaven’s bidding
through the air unseen will tell the story of the ghastly act, and a wail of
sorrow will rise high above the roaring of the winds. No, think of it as I
will, there is nothing to urge me to the crime I contemplate but ambition,
and that, like the force with which a too impetuous rider o’er-vaults his
saddle, may carry me beyond my mark.
ANOTHER VERSION OF THE SAME PASSAGE
If the perpetration of this deed meant the satisfactory accomplishment
of my purpose, then the sooner it were performed the better. If I could
murder Duncan and at the same time avoid discovery, so that I might feel
assured that, upon this earth—this narrow bank dividing us from two eter-
nities—the one act of assassination might be all-sufficing and conclusive, I
would take my chance of the world to come. But such a deed as I now con-
template is often followed by retribution even in this world, and my action
may serve but as a lesson to others, teaching them how easily blood may be
shed, and the lesson thus taught may be practised upon myself. Justice is
impartial and often serves the poisoner with a cup like to that which he
prepares for his own foe.
I am doubly bound in honor to safeguard the king. As his cousin I am
bound to him by ties of blood, and as his subject by my sworn fealty.
Both these reasons cry out against the deed. Again, I am his host, and if
all the laws of hospitality demand that I guard him against evil-doers, how
much more should I restrain my own hand from his murder!
178 MACBETH
Besides, King Duncan has exercised his powers with such moderation,
and borne the high responsibility of royalty with such freedom from re-
proach, that these virtues, like angels’ tongues, will plead loudly for him,
and will stir up indignation against the terrible crime of murder. And Pity,
borne upon the swift wings of the wind, like a heavenly seraph or like God’s
cherubim, will, in a breath, proclaim the horrible deed the whole world over,
so that even wrath shall be drowned in the wells of sympathetic tears that
will spring to the eyes of all.
What goad have I to drive me on to action? None but ambition, which
often over-reaches itself, as an impulsive horseman, leaping over-hastily into
his saddle, misses his seat and falls on the other side.
2. Paraphrase the passage commencing ‘‘She should have died here-
atter.’” 7 ((V.. v; 17-28,)
Her death happens at an unfortunate moment. She cannot now enjoy
those honors upon which her mind was bent. But so it always happens when
we trust ever to the morrow to bring us something which we possess not
today. And thus day following day, living always for the future, we creep
sluggishly on our way until at last the book of history and of time is closed
and eternity begins. And what has time done for those who have departed
before us? It has but revealed the folly of their trust and led them on
their way to the dust from which they sprang. Begone flickering spark of
life, thou art but an unsubstantial, passing shadow, of no more importance
in eternity, and no more regarded than is the ranting of an inferior actor
who strides and shouts upon some obscure stage and then passes at once
from the sight and thoughts of the spectators. Again, life is but the noisy
vaporings of a raving madman full of words and gestures, but devoid of
meaning.
KS
x
xf
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10.
QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW
INTRODUCTION
SHAKESPEARE’S LIFE
Write a brief account of Shakespeare’s boyhood days at Stratford.
Write a brief account of Shakespeare’s married life at Stratford.
What was the proximate cause of Shakespeare’s leaving Stratford for
London ?
According to tradition, how was Shakespeare first employed in London?
Write a short account of Shakespeare’s last days.
Trace the history of Shakespeare’s direct descendants until their final
extinction.
From your reading, what conclusion have you reached regarding Shake-
speare’s religion?
Tell what you know of Shakespeare’s learning.
Quote the lines from Dryden’s ‘‘ Essay on Dramatic Poesy’’ bearing on
question eight.
Name four Comedies, four Tragedies, and four Chronicle Plays written
by Shakespeare.
THE DRAMA
Briefly state the scope of the drama.
Tell what you know of the ancient Greek drama.
Sketch the history of the Roman drama.
Give a brief account of the connection of Christianity with the ancient
drama.
Sketch briefly the development of the modern drama in Italy, France,
Germany, England, and Scandinavia.
How does America stand in the matter of dramatic productions?
Compare the staging of the drama in Shakespeare’s time with its
staging in our day?
From the absence of stage accessories, what conclusion do you draw
regarding the intelligence of Elizabethan audiences?
What does the drama undertake to tell?
What is important with regard to-every action in drama?
1
180 MACBETH
THE TRAGEDY Macbeth
1. When was Macbeth composed? Give reasons for your answer.
2. Name some of the distinctive features of this play.
3. Contrast the tragedies Macbeth and Hamlet.
4. Name the sources from which Shakespeare took his material for Macbeth,
5. Name some of the changes of incident which Shakespeare made in
history.
6. Write a short account of witchcraft as it was understood in Shakespeare’s
time.
7. How does Dowden speak of tragedy as conceived by Shakespeare?
8. What is the characteristic motive of tragedy?
9. Why is Macbeth tragic?
10. Why is the result of Macbeth’s actions tragic?
DuNcAN
1. Briefly describe Duncan’s character.
2. What was one of Duncan’s chief political blunders?
3. How does the character of Duncan, as portrayed in history, compare
with his character as represented by Shakespeare?
4, What does Holinshed say regarding the beginning of Duncan’s reign?
MACBETH
1. Under what baneful influence does Macbeth appear to act throughout
the play?
2. What qualities of Macbeth’s character first impress us?
3. Discuss the courage of Macbeth.
4. How is the analysis of Macbeth’s character, as represented at the begin-
ning of the play, facilitated?
5. When does Macbeth’s character undergo a complete revolution?
LADY MACBETH
1. In considering Lady Macbeth’s character, of what should the reader
divest himself?
2. What do you regard as the cause of Lady Macbeth’s fall from grace?
3. What do you regard as the strongest trait of Lady Macbeth’s character?
4. How did Lady Macbeth die?
5. Briefly summarize Mrs. Jameson’s estimate of Lady Macbeth’s
character.
BG? TO lS
Ale Go ES) be
QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 181
BANQUO
To whom is Banquo regarded as a foil in this play?
What are the prominent traits of Banquo’s character?
Quote lines illustrating Banquo’s modesty of character.
Quote lines to show that Banquo was not entirely free from the vices of
ambition and superstition.
By what vices of his own was Banquo’s ruin accomplished?
Macpurr, MALcoLM, THE WITCHES, AND THE MAcBnTH PERIOD OF
ScortisH History
Why does Macbeth hate and fear Macduff?
What is Malcolm’s distinguishing characteristic?
Quote the lines in which Malcolm describes his own character.
Briefly discuss the Witches.
Write a short review of the Macbeth period of Scottish history.
Act I—Scenss I anp II
Describe the opening scene of the play. What battle is referred to?
Give a short account of the state of Scotland so far as this may be
gathered from the second scene. Who were Dunean, Malcolm, Mac-
beth?
Explain the following with reference to the context:
(a) Fair is foul, and foul is fair.
(b) So well thy words become thee as thy wounds.
(c) Go pronounce his present death.
What do you know about the Western Isles, Golgotha, Bellona, Saint
Colme’s Inch?
In what sense does Shakespeare use the following words: hurlyburly,
gallowglasses, minion, memorize, lavish?
Act J—SceneE III
Describe the interview between the Witches and Macbeth and Banquo.
Explain the following expressions, and show the connection in which
they severally occur in the play: ‘the weird sisters,’’ ‘‘you imperfect
speakers,’’ ‘‘function is smother’d in surmise,’’ ‘the interim having
weigh’d it.’’
Name some of the customary occupations of the witches, using quota-
tions in your answer.
182 MACBETH
4. Comment upon the grammar or phraseology of the following: ‘‘To be
king stands not within the prospect of belief, no more than to be
Cawdor,’’ ‘‘ Who was the thane lives yet,’’ ‘‘ Time and the hour runs
through the roughest day,’’ ‘‘Let us toward the king.’’
5. Macbeth says to the Witches: ‘‘The thane of Cawdor lives, a pros-
perous gentleman.’’ Discuss the question as to whether this statement
is inconsistent with any preceding passage in the play.
Act I—ScENEs IV-VII
1. Give your own view of the character of Duncan, supporting your
statements by quotations from the play.
2. By whom, to whom, and under what circumstances were the following
lines spoken? Explain where necessary.
(a) It is a peerless kinsman.
(b) Stop up the access and passage to remorse.
(c) The love that follows us sometime is our trouble.
(d) False face must hide what the false heart doth know.
3. Give the substance of Macbeth’s soliloquy, commencing: ‘‘If it were
done when ’tis done.’’
4, Explain fully: ‘‘We will establish our estate upon our eldest, Mai-
colm,’’ ‘‘the milk of human kindness,’’ ‘‘metaphysical aid,’’ ‘‘coign
of vantage,’’ ‘‘He’s here in double trust,’’ ‘‘sightless couriers of
the air,’’ ‘‘the receipt of reason a limbee only.’’
5. Show that Macbeth is subject to the stronger will of his wife.
Act I aNnD GENERAL
1. Show, giving quotations, that Macbeth at the period of the first act is
generally held in high repute.
2. What circumstances are alluded to in the following lines? Explain
them and name the speaker:
(a) So from that spring whence comfort seem’d to come
Discomfort swells.
(b) Though his bark cannot be lost,
Yet it shall be tempest-tost.
(c) He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks,
Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make.
(d) He brings great news.
(e) What beast was ’t then,
That made you break this enterprise to me.
bo
QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 183
Explain the following: ‘‘overcharged with double cracks,’’ ‘‘ flout the
sky, ‘‘aroint thee,’’ ‘‘the insane root,’’ ‘‘supernatural soliciting,’’
‘‘nature’s mischief,’’ ‘‘this ignorant present,’’ ‘‘trammel up,’’
“four great quell.’’
Act II—Scrngss I anp II
Show by means of incidents or quotations the honesty of Banquo.
Paraphrase the following lines, and tell by whom they were spoken:
(a) Being unprepared,
Our will became the servant to defect;
Which else should free have wrought.
(b) Mine eyes are made the fools 0’ the other senses
Or else worth all the rest.
Explain the allusions in the following: ‘‘Pale Hecate,’’ ‘‘Tarquin’s
ravishing strides,’’ ‘‘the fatal bellman, which gives the stern’st
good-night,’’ ‘‘great Neptune’s ocean.’’
Comment upon anything peculiar in the meter or the grammar of the
following lines:
(a) As this which now I draw.
(b) Words to the heat of deeds too cool breath gives.
(c) At the south entry; retire we to our chamber.
Give the substance of the conversation that ensued between Macbeth
and his wife immediately after the murder.
Acr II—Scenss III anp IV
What evidence is contained in the Porter’s speech bearing upon the
date of composition of this play?
How does Macbeth attempt to justify his action in killing the king’s
servants?
Explain with reference to the context:
(a) Confusion now hath made his masterpiece.
(b) All is but toys: renown and grace is dead.
(ec) There’s daggers in men’s smiles.
(d) Lest our old robes sit easier than our new.
Give the meaning of the following words: napkins, equiwocate, argument,
ravin, benison.
Give some account of the prodigies that accompanied the murder of
Duncan. In what other of Shakespeare’s plays are similar portents
deseribed?
MACBETH
Act II AND GENERAL
What external and internal evidence is there as to the date of the play?
What other plays of Shakespeare belong to the same period of
composition ?
Explain the following expressions, and show very briefly their context
in the play: ‘‘husbandry in heaven,’’ ‘‘sensible to feeling,’’ *‘take
the present horror from the time,’’ ‘‘roast your goose,’’ ‘‘T’ll devil-
porter it no further,’’ ‘‘the great doom’s image,’’ ‘‘the traveling
lamp,’’ ‘‘mousing owl.’’
What do you know of Scone, Colme-kill, the locality of Macheth’s
Castle?
Give examples from this act of the use of:
(a) Puns; (b) adverbs used as adjectives; (ec) the omission of a verb
of motion.
How were the following persons affected, either in their fortunes or
their feelings, by the murder of Duncan: Malcolm, Macduff, Banquo,
Macbeth?
Act ITI—SceEneEs I anp II
Show that the feelings of Macbeth and Banquo towards each other
have undergone considerable change since the beginning of the play,
and give the reasons for this change.
Give the substance of Macbeth’s conversation with the murderers.
Give the context of the following lines and explain them:
(a) To be thus is nothing;
But to be safely thus.
(b) Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves, are clept
All by the name of dogs.
(ec) We have scoteh’d the snake, not kill’d it,
(d) But in them nature’s copy’s not eterne.
Give the meaning of the following words, and illustrate their use by
quoting from the play: rancours, addition, spy, ecstasy, shard-borne.
Explain fully:
Under him
My Genius is rebuked, as, it is said,
Mark Antony’s was by Cesar.
Acr III—Scengs III anp IV
Is there any reason for supposing that the third murderer was Macbeth
himself? State your own views on the subject.
i=
st)
QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 185
Briefly describe the banquet scene. How do you account for Macheth’s
behavior on that occasion?
Explain the following passages and give their context:
(a) To feed were best at home;
From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony;
Meeting were bare without it.
(b) Augures and understood relations have
By maggot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth
The secret’st man of blood.
With what unusual signification are the following words found in these
scenes: Offices, encounter, saucy, flaws, admired, owe?
Describe the conversation between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth with
which the banquet closes. What light does it throw upon the character
of either?
Act III—Scrents V anp VI
Explain the connection between Hecate and the Witches.
Explain the allusions in the following and comment upon the words in
italics:
(a) Hark! I am eall’d: my little spirit, see,
Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me.
(b) They should find
What ’twere to kill a father; so should Fleance.
(ec) The most pious Edward.
Explain the meaning of the following expressions: ‘‘artificial sprites,’’
‘“who cannot want the thought,’’ ‘‘from broad words,’’ ‘‘receive
free honours,’’ ‘‘the cloudy messenger turns me his back.’’
A song within: ‘‘Come away, come away,’’ ete. Quote some of the
succeeding lines of this song. In what other play is the song to be
found? Is any inference to be drawn from this fact as to the
authorship of this part of the play?
Act III AND GENERAL
Show to what extent supernatural influences determine the course of
the action of the play.
What authorities did Shakespeare consult for the incidents of the
play?
Explain, with reference to the context:
(a) Rather than so, come, fate, into the list,
And champion me to the utterance!
186
MACBETH
(b) After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well.
(¢) This is more strange
Than such a murder is.
(d) And you all know, security
Is mortals’ chiefest enemy.
Give some account of the following words: Dill, seeling, rooky, nonpa-
reu, trenchéd, maws, maggot-pies, confusion, thralls.
Give some account of the properties and powers attributed by
Shakespeare to the Witches.
Act IV—SceEngs I anp IT
Mention some of the ingredients of the Witches’ cauldron. For what
reason were horrible or loathsome objects alone chosen?
Describe and explain the different apparitions presented to the eyes of
Macbeth through the agency of the Witches.
Explain fully:
(a) Though the treasure
Of nature’s germens tumble all together,
Even till destruction sicken; answer me.
(b) And some, I see,
That two-fold balls and treble sceptres earry:
(c) But eruel are the times, when we are traitors
And do not know ourselves.
With what meaning and in what connection do the following words
occur? swelter’d, ravin’d, chaudron, impress, pernicious, firstlings,
gin, shag-hair’d.
Discuss Macduff’s conduct in leaving his wife and fleeing to England.
What is your opinion of Lady Macduff?
Act IV—SceEnsE III
How and for what purpose does Malcolm misrepresent himself to
Macduff ?
Show how Shakespeare in this scene conveys a compliment to King
James.
Explain, briefly denoting the context:
(a) That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose.
(b) Now we’ll together; and the chance of goodness
Be like our warranted quarrel.
QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 187
@)) To relate the manner,
Were, on the quarry of these murder’d deer,
To add the death of you.
(d) Our lack is nothing but our leave. Macbeth
Is ripe for shaking, and the powers above
Put on their instruments.
Notice anything that may be remarkable in the following expressions:
‘“uproar the universal peace,’’ ‘‘the means that makes us strangers,’’
‘*Since that the truest issue . . . stands accursed,’’ ‘‘relation,
too nice, and yet too true,’’ ‘‘nothing, but who knows nothing.’’
Deseribe the effect upon Macduff of the news of his wife’s murder.
How does this murder affect the progress of the action of the play?
Act IV AND GENERAL
Show that Shakespeare, in his conception of the Witches, has largely
followed the popular beliefs of his own times.
Describe, with quotations from the play, the appearance of Shake-
speare’s Witches.
Explain the following: ‘‘Take a bond of fate,’’ ‘‘ Thy crown does sear
mine eye-balls,’’ ‘‘the blood-bolter’d Banquo,’’ ‘‘the natural touch,’’
““yecoil in an imperial charge,’’ ‘‘the title is affeer’d,’’ ‘‘ portable,’’
«¢ Tis call’d the evil,’’ ‘‘a modern eestasy,’’ ‘‘he has no children.’’
What allusions are made in this Act to the moon, Birnam Wood, the
wren, angels, Edward the Confessor?
Show the degradation of Macbeth after his second meeting with the
Witches.
Act V—ScEngEs I, II anp III
Mention the incidents of Lady Macbeth’s career to which she refers in
the sleep-walking scene.
Quote the lines in which Macbeth gives expression to his weariness of
life.
Explain with reference to the context:
(a) My mind she has mated, and amazed my sight.
(b) Meet we the medicine of the sickly weal.
(ec) Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased?
Some say he’s mad; others that lesser hate him,
Do eall it valiant fury.
Upon what grounds was this opinion formed of Macbeth’s conduct ?
What is your own view on the matter?
188
MACBETH
5. Explain the following: ‘‘This is her very guise,’’ ‘‘the bleeding and
ae
to
the grim alarm,’’ ‘‘unrough youths,’’ ‘‘all mortal consequences,’’
‘‘skirr the country round.’’
Act V—ScENEs IV-VII
How does Macbeth receive the news of his wife’s death? Give the
substance of his reflections upon hearing of it.
Describe the incident of the moving wood, and give the words of the
prophecy of which it was a fulfilment.
Describe the parts played by the Doctor, Seyton, and Young Siward.
Explain the meaning of the following expressions and briefly indicate
the context in which they occur: ‘‘ Thoughts speculative their unsure
hopes relate,’’ ‘‘my fell of hair,’’ ‘‘to the last syllable of recorded
time,’’ ‘‘T pull in resolution,’’ ‘‘I’Il prove the lie thou speak’st.’’
Describe the action of Malcolm as shown in these scenes, and contrast
it with his previous conduct.
Act V—ScENE VIII
Discuss the question of Macbeth’s bravery during the last phases of his
life.
What is said in this scene upon the subject of Young Siward’s death?
By whom, to whom, and under what circumstances were the following
words spoken? Explain where necessary:
(a) Why should I play the Roman fool?
(b) We’ll have thee, as our rarer monsters are,
Painted upon a pole.
(c) Isee thee compass’d with thy kingdom’s pearl,
That speak my salutation in their minds.
Explain the following words and expressions: palter, the show and gaze
o’ the time, knoll’d, score, the time is free.
Discuss Macbeth’s faith in the Witches, and show to what extent it
influenced his actions.
Act V AND GENERAL
Show from the play Lady Macbeth’s feminine nature and her admira-
tion of her husband.
What use of rhyme and of prose is made by Shakespeare? Give
examples from this Act.
ee
a
10.
Jeli
12.
QUESTIONS FOR REVIEW 189
Give the meaning of: sag, sear, moe, censures, equivocation, harbingers,
still, kerns.
What allusions are contained in this act to Arabia, English epicures,
physic, the stage, bear-baiting, earls?
GENERAL QUESTIONS
Write an essay upon courage and distinguish between the kind of
courage exhibited by Macbeth and that which Lady Macbeth
possessed.
Draw a contrast between the plays, Macbeth and Hamlet, and between
the heroes of the two plays.
What do you understand by (1) Irony, (2) Euphemism? Give examples
from this play.
Quote from the play allusions to (1) night, (2) dreams.
Give the exact location of Inverness, Scone, Birnam Wood, and Forres.
What do you know of the true history of the period at which Macbeth
lived?
Mention some of the more important points in which Shakespeare has
departed from his historical authority, and give reasons for his
deviations.
Write a concise Argument to this drama. Comment on its diction,
attitude (characteristics common to the personages generally), and
motive (or pervading sentiment).
Sketch the life of Shakespeare, and point out his chief excellencies as
a dramatist.
Discuss the prosody of the following lines:
(a) Smells wooingly here; no jutty frieze.
(b) Of his own chamber, and used their very daggers.
(c) Which in his death were perfect. I am one, my liege.
(d) I’ll come to you anon. We are resoived, my lord.
(e) In our last conference; pass’d in probation with you.
Comment upon the grammatical peculiarities in the following:
(a) Always thought that I require a clearness.
(b) This sore night hath trifled former knowings.
(c) Weary with disasters, tugg’d with fortune.
(d) Who may I rather challenge for unkindness.
(e) Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word.
Quote any lines you may remember for which emendations have been
proposed, and discuss the alternative readings.
190
MACBETH
13.
14.
15.
16.
Te
18.
1g).
20.
21.
22.
23.
From what sources did Shakespeare derive this play?
Mention the chief instances of the supernatural in Macbeth; and
show how this element determines the action of the play.
Explain, with reference to the context:
(1) Confronted him with self-comparisons.
(2) Within the note of expectation.
(3) Better thee without than he within.
(4) Let our just censures attend the true event.
(5) Function is smothered in surmise.
Give the meaning of: weird, harbinger, limbec, shard-borne, farrow,
foison, chaudron, germens, hermit, vouch’d, doff, pester’d.
Illustrate from the play Macbeth’s openness, ambition, strong imag-
ination.
Quote reference to swimming, sickness, navigation, the stage, horses;
and write out any four phrases which have become familiar
quotations.
What internal evidence is there as to the date of the composition of
this play?
How far does the play Macbeth correspond with or misrepresent
historical facts?
Contrast the characters of Macbeth and Lady Macbeth with some
characters in other tragedies.
Explain, with reference to the context:
(1) the golden round
Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crown’d withal.
(2) There’s husbandry in heaven;
Their candles are all out.
(3) But this sore night
Hath trifled former knowings.
(4) All these are portable
With other graces weighed.
(5) Their malady convinces
The great assay of art.
(6) Ay, in the catalogue
Ye go for men.
Give some account of the words: paddock, inch, limbec, weird, foisons,
sag, clept.
WORKS OF REFERENCE
For the convenience of teachers and others the following list of aids
to the study of Shakespeare is presented:
Dowden’s Shakespeare, His Mind
and Art.
Gervinus’ Shakespeare Commen-
taries.
Coleridge’s Lectures on Shakespeare.
Karl Elze’s Essays on Shakespeare.
Hazlitt’s Characters of Shakespeare.
Hudson’s Shakespeare’s Life, Art
and Character.
Drake’s Shakespeare and his Times.
Seottowe’s Life of Shakespeare.
Moulton’s Shakespeare as a Dra-
matic Artist.
Lee’s Shakespeare’s Life and Works.
’ Sherman’s What is Shakespeare.
Mrs. Kemble’s Notes upon some of
Shakespeare’s Plays.
Mrs. Jameson’s Shakespeare’s Hero-
Anes.
Swinburne’s A study of Shakespeare.
Campbell’s Shakespeare’s Legal Ac-
quirements.
Barrett Wendell’s William Shakes-
peare.
A. W. Ward’s History of Dramatic
Literature.
J. Bartlett’s Concordance of Shakes-
peare.
Dr. Elizabeth Woodbridge’s The
vrama, Its Laws and Its Tech-
nique.
191
Spalding’s Elizabethan Demonology.
Fleay’s Shakespeare Manual.
Seott’s Essays on Chivalry, Romance
and the Drama.
Charles Lamb’s Works.
Schmidt ’s Shakespeare Lexicon.
Halliwell’s Dictionary of Archaic
and Provincial Words. ~
Nare’s Glossary, ed. Halliwell and
Wright.
Kinnear’s Classical Dictionary.
Freytag’s Technic des Dramas,
translated into English by E.
MacEwan.
Smith’s Classical Dictionary.
The Encyclopedia Britannica.
Hazlitt’s Shakespeare’s Plays and
Poems.
Knight’s Pictorial Edition of
Shakespeare.
The Henry Irving Shakespeare.
The Clarendon Press, Globe, War-
wick, Temple, Pitt Press Edi-
tions of the Play.
Bianchi’s Mythology of Greece and
Rome.
Stending’s Greek and oman Myth-
ology.
Abbott’s Shakespearian Grammar.
Mayor’s Chapters on English Metre.
GLOSSARY
Adder, viper, IV. i. 16.
Addition, title, I. iii. 106.
Address’d, prepared, II. ii, 24.
Afeard, made afraid, I. iii. 96.
Affection, disposition, nature, IV. iii. 70.
Affeer’d, assessed, confined, established,
IV. iii. 34.
All-thing, (adv.) altogether, IIT. i. 13.
A-making, a compacted prepositional
phrase of which the parts are ‘on? ==
in, and “making,’”’ an abstract noun,
III. iv. 34.
Amazed, confused, II. iii. 94, IV. i.
Ve 17-86.
Anwiteiit “vi. 19.
Annoyance, injury, V. i. 84.
Anon, (1) at once, I. i. 9; (2) im aomo-
ment, II. iii. 24.
Antic, quaint. The same word as an-
tique, IV. i. 130.
Antidote, a medicine given as a remedy,
especially to counteract the effects of
poison, V. iii. 42.
Approve, prove, I. vi. 4.
Argument, topic, discussion, II. iii. 106.
Aroint thee, begone, I. iii. 6.
Assay, attempt, effort, IV. iid), 13D.
Augure, augury, the science of divina-
tion; Il. iv. 125.
Avaunt, begone, III. iv. 94.
Aweary, the prefix here seems not to
pe from “‘of,’’ as explained by Ab-
bott, but is due to the analogy of
words like “alive”? where it is the
preposition ‘‘on.” Cf, ‘“a-making”’
above, V. v. 49.
126;
Baited, provoked, harassed, V. viii. 29.
Bane, destruction, V. iii. 58.
Bank, in the ordinary sense of ground
on the edge of water, and not beach,
it vide G6,
Battle, army corps, V. vi. 4.
Beldam, hag, III. v. 2.
Benison, blessing, II. iv. 40.
Birthdom, explained by Dr. Johnson as
“birthright, but better as ‘Jand of
our birth,’ IV. iii. 4.
Blanch, to turn pale, whiten, Eli iv. 2a7.
Blaspheme, to slander, DPVeiiie LOM.
193
Blood-bolter’d, having the hair matted
with blood, IV. i. 123.
Blow, blow upon, I. iii. 15.
Bodement, prediction, IV. i. 96.
Boot, in addition, profit, advantage, TVie
iii. 37.
Borne in hand, deceived with false
promises, III. i. 80.
Botch, a bungling, III. i. 133.
Breech’d, covered, IT, iii. 102.
Brinded, or brindled, streaked, IV. i. 1.
Broad, unrestrained, III. vi. 21; III. iv.
28.
Bruited, rumored, proclaimed, V. vii, 22.
Cabin’d, imprisoned, ITI. iv. 24.
Casing, encasing, enclosing, III. iv. 23.
Censures, opinions, V, iv. 14.
Chalice, a cup, I. vii. 11.
Chamberlain, the officer charged with
the direction and management of the
private apartments of the king, I:
vii. 58.
Champion, to challenge, III. i. 71.
Chance, event, II. iii. 77; IV. iii. 128.
Chaps, jaws, I. ii. 21.
Chaudron, intestines, IV. i. 32.
Choppy, chapped, I. iii. 44.
Choughs, jackdaws, III. iv. 126.
Chuck, said to be a variant of chick,
III. ii. 45.
Clept, called, III. i. 93.
Cling, shrivel, V. v. 40.
Cloister’d, having to do with a cloister;
an example of the Hlizabethan free-
dom in coining adjectives, III. ii. 41.
Close, secret, III. v. 7.
Cloudy, gloomy, sullen, III, vi. 41.
Coign, a corner, I, vi. 7.
Composition, an arrangement of peace
terms, I. ii. 58.
Compt, account, I. vi. 26.
Compunctious, causing compunction, I.
We A
Confineless, boundless, IV. iii. 55.
Confounds, ruins, II. ii. 11.
Confusion, destruction, II, iii. 52.
Consent, advice, counsel, lilin, ok PA
Convince, overcome, overpower, Tam avale
59; IV. iil, 134.
MACBETH
194
Corperal, corporeal, substantial, I. vif.
74.
Cracks, here in the sense of ‘‘charge,”
rather than of the noise made by the
charge, I. ii. 36.
Curtained, having a curtain, II. i. 51.
Dearest, having a close relation to, I.
View tes
Degrees, ranks, III. iv. 1.
Doom, judgment, the day of judgment,
If. ii, 64,
Doubt, to fear, IV. ii. 67; V. v. 43.
Dudgeon, the hilt, II. i. 46.
Dunnest, darkest, superlative of dun-
brown, I. v. 53.
Ecstasy, madness, mental suffering, III.
ti 220
Equivocate, to speak with double mean-
ing, prevaricate, II. iii, 13.
Eterne, eternal, III. ii. 38.
Expedition, haste, II. iii, 96,
Fact, literally, something done; here,
an evil deed or crime, III. vi, 10.
Faculties, powers, I. vii. 17.
Fantastical, imaginary, I. iii, 53.
Farrow, a litter of pigs, IV. i. 64.
Fee-grief, a private, or personal sor-
row, IV. iii. 188.
Fell, fierce, cruel, IV. ii. TL:
Waowy ais
Fenny, living in a fen, IV. i. 12.
File, list, III. i. 94; V. ii. 8.
Filed, defiled, III. i. 64,
Fits, convulsions, IV. ii. 17.
Flaw, a gust of wind; hence an out-
burst of emotion or passion, IIT. iv. 63.
Flighty, in a swift flight, IV. i, 145.
Flourish, a set of notes on a trumpet
performed on the approach of any
person of distinction, I. iv. (Stage
dir.)
Flout, mock defiantly, I. ii, 48,
Foisons, abundance, IV. iii. 81.
Follows, attends, follows upon, I. vi. 11.
Forbid, accursed, under an interdict, I.
Neb ae
Forced, reinforced, V. v. 5.
Founded, haying a foundation, III. iy.
22.
Franchised, free (here
obligations), II. i. 28,
From, in consequence of, III. vi. 21,
IV5, 115 20!
Fry, literally, spawn of fishes, used in
the sense of offspring, IV. ii, 84.
Function, “active exercise of the facul-
ties’ (Clar, Press), I. fii, 141,
a head,
from disloyal
Gallowglass, a heavy-armed foot-
soldier. (Irish, gallo-glach), I. ii. 13.
Germens, seeds, IV. i. 58.
Gild, used figuratively of smearing with
blood, II. ii. 55.
Gin, trap or snare, IV. ii. 35.
Gouts, drops, II. i. 46.
Graced, gracious, -ed here is the adj.
sufix meaning ‘‘characterized by,”
TLE Sv: 43.
Groom, a servant, II. ii. 5; Il. ii, 49.
Gulf, gullet, IV. i. 23.
Hangman, executioner, IT. ii. 27.
Harbinger, forerunner, messenger, I.
fy. 45; V.vi. 10:
Hautboys, (stage dir.) wooden wind in-
struments, I. vi.
Hawk’d at, struck, as a hawk strikes
its prey, II. iv. 13.
Hold, accept, IV. ii. 19.
Holp, helped, I. vi. 23.
Horror, used here for the fearful silence,
EE. iL bg.
Howlet, young owl, IV. i. 17.
Hurlyburly, a tumult, I. i, 3.
Husbandry, thrift, IT. i. 5.
Hyrcan, belonging to Hyrcania, a coun-
try south of the Caspian Sea, III. iv.
102.
"Ild, for “yield” in the older sense of
reward, I. vi. 13.
Iliness, evil disposition, I. v. 22,
Impress, press, i.e. force into service,
IV. i. 95.
Inch, an island, I. ii. 60.
Incarnadine, to make scarlet, II. 1i. 61.
Informs thus, brings forth this form,
it, 3. 48:
Inhabit, to keep at home, to remain
within doors, III. iv. 106.
Interest, here in sense of affection, I. ii
63.
Intrenchant, not to be cut, invulnerable,
V. viii. 9.
Jocund, jovial, IIT. ii, 40.
Jump, risk, I. vii, 7.
Jutty, projection, I, vi. 6.
Kern, an Irish light-armed foot-soldier,
fis 1S sere aa 29; V. vii. 17.
Knoll'd, tolled, V. viii, 50.
Knowings, experiences, IT. iy, 4,
Laced, streaked, IT. iii, 98.
Lack, need, requirement, IV. iii, 299,
GLOSSARY
Lapp’d, wrapped, I. ii. 53.
Latch, to catch, IV. iii. 187.
Lated, late, the suffix ed having the
meaning “characterized by being,”
Hite diss 6.
Lavish, profuse,
ii, 56.
Levy, an armed force, IIT. ii. 25.
Limbee, popular form of alembic, a
still; I. vil, 62.
Limited, appointed, bound by duty, II.
iil. 87.
Line, reinforce, as a garment is
strengthened by lining, I. iii. 112.
Lodged, laid low, IV. i. 54.
Loon, a base fellow, V. iii. 11.
Luxurious, lustful, IV. iii. 58.
prodigal, exultant, I.
Maggot-pie, a magpie, III. iv. 126.
Martlet, a martin, I. vi. 4.
Mated, overcome, confounded, same as
in checkmate, V. i. 86.
Maw, a stomach, III. iv. 73; IV. i. 23.
Mere, entire, complete, IV. iii. 82; IV.
iii, 144.
Metaphysical, supernatural, I. v. 31.
Methought, it seemed to me; an en-
tirely distinct word from the pre-
terit of “think’’ with which it has
in time become confused, II. ii. 34; V.
v. 34.
Minion, darling, favorite, I. ii. 18; Il.
iv. 15.
Minutely, occurring every minute, V. ii.
18.
Missive, anything sent; a messenger, Te:
Manes
Modern, common, ordinary, IV. iii. 162.
Moe, more (in number), V. iii. 34.
Mortality, mortal life, IT. iii. 79.
Mortified, dead figuratively; dead to all
natural feelings, V. ii. 5.
Mummy, dried carcass, IV. i. 23.
Muse, wonder, III. iv. 86.
Napkin, a handkerchief, II. iii. 7.
Naught, evil, IV. iii. 217.
Nave, the central part of a wheel; here,
and here only, used as a diminutive
of navel, I. ii. 21.
Navigation, shipping, IV. i. 53.
Near, (Comp. of nigh.) a comparative
form, used in later English as a posi-
tive with new comparative “nearer,”
1a oGbig Gleaay
Newt, a lizard, IV. i. 14.
‘Nice, minutely particular, TVe di. L6G:
Niggerd, miser, IV. it, UTZ:
195
Nightgown, dressing-gown. Night-
gowns in the modern sense were un-
known until a comparatively recent
date, Uli iis 691; Vij i bs Vir 1. 69)
Nonpareil, matchless, III. iv, 19.
Notion, mind, III. i, 82.
Oblivious, causing oblivion. Cf. ‘‘insane”’
in I. 311, 843 V. ill. 42.
O’er-fraught, overcharged, IV. iii. 202.
Offices, servants, II. i. 14.
On, of) T, Gil, S42-V. i: 70;
Or, before; it has no connection with
the alternative “‘or,’? IV.. iii. 165.
Owe, possess, own, I. iii. 76; I. iv. 10;
Tit. iv. 114.
Pall, (verb) wrap as in a pall, I. v. 53.
Palpable, capable of being felt, II. i. 40.
Palter, equivocate, dodge, V. viii. 20.
Patch, a term of contempt, whether
from the patched or parti-colored
dress of jesters, or from the Italian
‘“‘pazzo,” a fool, is uncertain, V. iii. 14.
Peak, to grow lean, fall away, I. iii. 23.
Pearl, “this mean’s ‘thy kingdom’s
wealth,’ or rather ‘ornaments’ ”’ (Ma-
lone in Var.), V. viii. 56.
Pent-house, literally, a shed projecting
from a main building; in Shakespeare,
an eyelid, I. iii. 20.
Pernicious, hurtful, deadly, IV. i. 133.
Pester, (formerly to encumber, clog;
short for “impester’’?) harassed, V.
Si Deve
Place, ‘‘a technical term in falconry
for the pitch attained by a falcon
before swooping down on its prey,”
Hie ive 12.
Point, at a, prepared for, IV. iii. 127.
Poorly, unworthily, If. ii. 71.
Portable, tolerable, endurable, IV. iii. 82.
Posset, a drink of hot, curdled milk,
usually taken at night, II. ii. 6.
Posters, swift travelers, I. iii. 33.
Power, army, IV. iii. 177; IV. iii. 228;
Warddoeds! Vis, Wier ce
Present, immediate, its usual Bliza-
bethan sense, I. ii. 63. Cf, “presently,”
DV. tds, AST
Pretence, design, intent, II. shy alalir(,
Pretend, intend, aim at, II. iv. 24,
Probation, proof, III. i. 79.
Proof, armor that has been proved im-
penetrable, I. ii. 53.
Protest, publicly proclaim, declare, III,
iv. 106; V. ii. 11.
196
Purveyor, one who goes before to make
provision for the table; a herald, I.
vi. 22.
Push, attack, V. iii. 19.
Put on, set to work, IV. iii. 231.
Quarry, a heap of slaughtered game,
IV. iii. 198.
Quell, used euphemistically for murder,
Eyal. C7.
Rancours, hatreds, III. i. 66.
Ravell’d, tangled, II. ii. 36.
Ravin, to devour, plunder, II. iv. 28;
1 es Be
Rawness, without due preparation, IV.
lii. 26.
Receipt, receptacle, I. vii. 61.
Received, received as true, I. vii. 67.
Recoil, to give way, yield, IV. iii. 19.
Repetition, recital, II. iii. 71.
Require, request, III. iv. 6.
Ronyon, a mangy, or scabby animal,
i iit, 6;
Rooky, gloomy, haunted by rooks, III.
Te bile
Rubs, imperfections, III, i. 133.
Rump-fed, variously explained:—(1)
Fed on good meat. (2) Fed on poor
meat. (3) Fed on nuts. (1) seems
the most probable, I. iii, 6.
Sag, to droop, V. iii. 10.
Saucy, violent, III. iv. 25.
Searf up, to blindfold, IIT. ii, 47,
Score, account or reckoning, V. viii. 52.
Scotch’d, slightly wounded, ITI. ii. 13.
Sear, burn, scorch, IV. i. 113; dry or
wither, V. iii. 22.
Seeling, making blind, a technical term
in falcony. To ‘“seel’ was to close
the eyes of a young hawk by draw-
ing a thread through the Hds: EET,
ii. 46.
Self-abuse, self deception, III. iv. 143.
Sennet, ‘a technical term for a particu-
lar set of notes played by trumpets
or cornets and different from a
flourish” (Ciar. Press), III. i. 10, Stg.
dir.
Se’nnights, a week, seven nights, I. iii,
99
Sensible, apparent to the senses, IT. i.
36.
Sewer, “the officer who formerly set
and removed dishes, tasted them,
etc.” (Skeat.) ‘In Blizabethan times
MACBETH
when servants entered with the
dishes for a banquet, he (the Sewer)
preceded them,” I. vii., Stg. dir.
Shag, rough, IV. ii. 83.
Shard-borne, borne on shards, i. e. the
scaly wing case of the beetle, III, ii,
42.
Shoughs, rough-coated dogs, III, i. 93.
Sightless, invisible, I. v. 51; I. vii. 23.
Single, weak, I. iii. 141.
Sirrah, a form of address used toward
comparatively inferior persons, III.
i, 44.
Skirr, scour, V. iii. 34.
Slab, slimy, viscous, IV. i. 31.
Sleave, raw silk floss, II. ii. 36.
Sliver, to cut or tear away, IV. i. 28.
Sole, mere, alone, IV. iii. 12.
Solemn, stately, ceremonious, III. i. 14,
Sooth, (1) n. truth; (2) adj. true, I. ii.
35; V. v. 40.
Sore, dreadful, II. iv. 3.
Speculation, power of sight, III. iv. 96.
Spongy, imbibing like a sponge, I. vii.
66.
Sprites, the word is our “spirits,” IV.
5 ie by
State, (1) a canopy; (2) a chair with
the canopy over it. Used in second
sense here, III. iv. 5.
Still, (1) constantly, V. i. 85;
variably, I. vil. 8: To i, Si
Strangely visited, i. e. afflicted with
strange diseases, IV. iii. 142.
Success, outcome, I. iii. 90; I. vii. 4.
Sudden, violent, IV. iii, 59.
Suggestion, temptation, I. iii, 135.
Summer-seeming, befitting sus mer,
like an annual that dies when sum-
mer departs, IV. iii. 79.
Surcease, a stopping, cessation (as of
life), I. wii. 4.
Surveying, Perceiving, I. ii. 30.
(2) in-
Taint, become infected, V. iii. 3.
Take, ‘‘to change into gall by
malignant power.” (Schmidt.)
50.
Teems, teems with, IV. iii. 168.
Thane, a title; in Saxon times a noble-
man inferior in rank to an earl and
ealdorman; later it was equivalent to
earl, I. ii, 44.
Titles, things to which he has a title
in law, his possessions, IV. ii. 7.
To, in addition to, ITI. i, 51.
Towering, a technical term in falconry,
used of the rise of a bird to its
your
ave
GLOSSARY
LOT
“place.”
pips;
Toys, trifles, II. iii. 80.
Trains, deceitful devices, IV. iii, 111.
Trammel, entangle, as in a net, I. vii. 3.
Transpose, change, alter, IV. iii. 21.
Treatise, story, V. v. 12.
Trenchéd, cut, III. iv. 27.
Trifled, made trifies of, IT. iv. 4.
Tyrant, usurper, III. vi. 22; IV. iii. 12.
(Vide supra, Place) II. iv.
Undeeded, unused,
deed, V. vii. 20.
Unseam’d, ripped open, I. ii. 21.
Untitled, without a title, IV. iii. 97.
Use, custom, I. iii. 138.
Utterance, utmost, III. i. 71.
having done no
Valued, provided with values or esti-
mates of worth, III. i. 94.
Vantage, favorable opportunity or posi-
mom a. 1. S05 bili. 1138; 5) yi. 7.
Visard, a mask, III, ii, 34.
Wanton, unguided, unrestrained, I. iv.
384.
Warranted, justified, IV. iii. 129.
Wassail, carousal, revelry, I. vii. 59.
Watching, waking, V. i. 12.
Water-rugs, water dogs with
eoats, III. i. 93.
Weal, state, commonwealth, III. iv. 77;
Vedi, 272
Weird, having to do with fate; as an
adjective, unearthly, uncanny, fate-
ful,ede diis So
Wholesome, healthy, IV. iii. 98.
Wink at, refuse to see, I. iv. 52.
AML Won 2G nee lb iil
Withal, with it, I. iii, 57.
Worm, a young serpent, III. iv. 29.
Wrack, wreck, V. v. 51.
Wrought, p. part. of work.
means agitated, I. iii, 150.
rough
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